


Stay In Your Coma

by FilmFreak94



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5563249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FilmFreak94/pseuds/FilmFreak94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fun story for children about a little boy, his best friends, and his parents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Butterfly

**Author's Note:**

> I have a complicated relationship with this one. It pretty much began my tradition of trying to write something nice for my friends for their birthdays and as a birthday present it worked out fine enough but seeing as how I wrote it in about a week and I wrote it before I started to really improve as a writer with the help and advice of other people I obviously have issues with it looking back. The majority of it is pretty solid I think but there's stuff in there I would have done differently if I had made it today or left out altogether like the weird dream sequence that seems a bit too weird for a story that's trying to be a more realistic take on OFF and the buildup to the ending I always thought was a little hokey. But then again if I had made it at any other time it probably wouldn't have been made in the first place and my friend loved it as a present (a lot of the ideas and situations in it were based off her headcanons so it probably makes sense at least she'd like it) which convinced me I should keep doing birthday presents like this so it could've turned out worse I suppose. And as a story I still like how it turned out overall, despite all its faults.
> 
> Although I didn't put in any content warnings mostly because of spoilers if you've played the game then you should be aware a story like this will have a few curse words thrown about and most of all it won't end happy. I pretty much make it clear right from the get-go it won't end happy but you'll just have to see for yourself. If you do manage to get through it to the end I just want to thank you in advance and I hope you enjoy this take on a very surreal and thought provoking game.
> 
> Also if you haven't played the game I suggest you don't read this and download it. It'll only take you a few hours to beat and it's free! So go check it out, it's one ride you won't soon forget.

Not enough progress was being made.

The boy had been in a catatonic state for weeks now. Lying on the bed in what appeared to be a peaceful slumber, a steady heartbeat and plenty of cranial activity. He had always been a creative child. Their short time together while he was awake was enough to convince the good doctor of this. But it just wasn’t enough. He made no signs of recovery but no signs of getting worse either. It was infuriating to see this brilliant child bed-ridden and unable to open his eyes, to share his mind with him and other people. The world needed more minds like his, and if he was truly nearing the end…

The doctor, of course, needed to tell the parents all viable options, much as it pained him to do so. Despite his personal feelings on the matter, he would have to give them the option of pulling the plug if his condition continued on like this.

But it wouldn’t come to that. Not while he was his doctor…

 

The boy was lost in his own world, chasing Butterflies and staring wistfully into the sky reaching out to the clouds that looked like marshmallows to try and eat them. His mother sat in the veranda a few feet away, reading a book. Every so often she would tilt her head up and smile at her son who had just learned to walk and was wobbling to and fro on the grass. She would then take in a deep breath of country air and return to her book, content in her current life and content in her future.

She and her husband had moved to the countryside two years after their child was born. The boy vaguely remembered bits of his father’s work when he was taken there by his mother to meet up with him for lunch. It was a big building that seemed to stretch all the way into space. It must have had over a thousand floors or more, he thought. His father’s job involved something to do with transporting messages to people and he had to sort out each of these messages so they could go to their proper destination. The boy didn’t remember much about the job after that. The most his memory went back was crawling around the floor of their old apartment in the city while his mother cooked dinner and his father watched his favorite sport on the box in the corner, screaming angrily at the little people in it who always seemed to ignore him.

The boy didn’t mind moving out to the country. Quite the opposite, he loved the country from the moment he was let down on the front yard’s lawn. It was much quieter there and less smelly than the city. Cleaner too, at least when the barns nearby weren’t concerned. He had never been in a barn before and only had the little toys and books in his room to tell him what kind of animals were in such places. Funny looking cows, fat pigs, ducks that swam in ponds, he was very eager to visit one of these barns one day. But he couldn’t go without his parents to supervise him, they had told him very sternly not to wander into barns as he might get hurt. He wondered how something as silly as a cow could ever hurt him but he minded his parents and remained patient.

He was very smart for a boy of his age. He was nearing his third birthday soon and already he had learned to say words like “mama” and “papa” and even other words like “soap” or “balloon.” He could also sound out a few words in the picture books his mother read to him at night. His parents were incredibly proud of their child and were already planning out the advanced classes he would take when he entered school and were looking into hiring tutors to keep his mind sharp even before then.

For now the boy’s mind wasn’t on learning new words or academic pursuits. He was giving chase to a very pretty and elusive Butterfly with golden wings that seemed to sparkle in the sun that hung overhead their quaint garden in the backyard of their cottage. He didn’t mean to kill the Butterfly or hold it against its will he would never do something that cruel. Truth be told he didn’t know what exactly he had in mind if or when he finally caught the creature. All he knew was that it was too fun to stop now and kept grasping at the air where the Butterfly had been.

Soon, without warning, he bumped into the bushes that marked the edge of their yard and tumbled backwards onto the grass. His bottom hurt from the impact but not enough to make him cry out for consolation. He turned his head quickly in every which way to try and locate the Butterfly again but stopped when he saw a tiny crack in between the bushes. He squinted his eyes and covered them from the sun to get a better look. He could vaguely see the Butterfly flying out towards the house of one of his neighbors. It was a wooden, two-story house with a weathervane on top and a barn to its right. There was a vacant field covered with a picket fence on the side of the barn with a Plow sitting in the middle of it.

The boy didn’t care about any of those things though; his mind was fixed on the insect fluttering towards them. He made an effort to force his way through the bushes which took a great amount of doing. He dug his hands hard into the grass, pulling up shards and dirt as he crawled, and pushed the stubborn bushes aside. He recalled the picture books his mother read to him about the jungle and fancied himself on a hunt through its dense plants chasing down a wild animal. He smiled excitedly to himself at this and only increased his desire to continue his pursuit.

At last he broke free of the bushes in his path and got to his feet. His eyes locked firmly on his prize. He wobbled as he ran for the Butterfly and grinned from ear to ear with his arms spread before him. The neighbor’s farm came closer and closer to him but he did not realize it for quite some time. He was leaping wildly to the sky trying to grab the Butterfly. For a moment he thought he would grow wings as well and fly up to meet it.

His thoughts were shattered when he heard a loud noise erupting from the barn. He was startled, not only for the noise but also for the fact that he could not see his mother. He didn’t think he had wandered so far away, she had just been a few feet behind him. Another noise came from the barn followed by what sounded like angry screams. He recognized angry screams from his father, but this sounded much angrier. Very carefully he tiptoed his way to the barn. It was much bigger than the pictures in his books. He almost fell over trying to look up and see the roof but he caught his balance and walked on. The door was slightly open and he could barely see inside it from where he was now.

He saw what looked to be a cow chewing something lazily with a dumb expression on its face. The cow was also much bigger than his books gave them credit for. The angry noises didn’t seem to come from it though. He dared himself to creep closer to the door and try to see who the true culprit was. When he came within almost reaching distance of the door a person walked angrily by it, shouting something as his shadow passed through the cracks. The boy immediately pulled his hands to his chest and stopped dead in his tracks. The figure that had briefly appeared in the door was much larger than the cow and it seemed like it could have been much larger than the barn even. No doubt it was this figure that was making those sounds of frustration. And it was now very scary to the boy.

The figure continued to curse violently from behind the slightly open door but the boy couldn’t bring himself to go any further. He turned around quickly and ran towards the open fields. Everything seemed so much bigger than he imagined. The machine in the middle of the field he recognized but couldn’t name seemed to loom over him menacingly and froze him once more. He began to cry. This was much too much for him and he wanted to go back home now. But he didn’t know where he could go. Behind him was the large figure who would surely eat him if he found out he was here and before him was a large metal monster that looked like it was thinking about eating him too! All he could do was lay down on the dirt and weep loudly, wishing that his parents would find him.

“Hugo!”

As if in answer he recognized his mother’s voice calling out to him. He shot up on the spot and ran towards it. He squeezed his way through the gaps in the picket fence and saw her running down the hill from their backyard. He ran as fast as his little legs could take him; away from the mean figure in the barn and the monster in the fields.

His mother sighed in relief as she saw her child running towards her. She swooped him up in her arms and kissed him repeatedly, tears coming down her eyes as well.

“What have I told you about running off you little devil!” She said sternly after composing herself, “You worried me half to death!” She would have pushed the matter further were it not for her son’s tears still coming down from his eyes and his uncontrollable wailing. He was too excited to really understand her, and besides it looked like he had learned his lesson.

“All right,” she sighed “let’s get you back inside and clean you up.” She walked back towards the house cradling him in her arms, relieved to no end that he didn’t get into any trouble. “Besides,” she said more calmly, “you don’t want to bother Mr. Dedan while he’s working.”

Mr. Dedan? Who was Mr. Dedan? Was she talking about that machine in the field, or the figure in the barn? What was he working on? Was he a monster? A dragon? A terrible demon that stole little boys who wandered onto his farm and turned them into cows? He couldn’t articulate these questions to his mother who had stripped him to his birthday suit and was now giving him a bath, washing off all the dirt he had collected from his little misadventure. Even after they had both calmed down and life returned to its usual state, Hugo could not forget Mr. Dedan, or the angry figure in the barn.

 

Every day was the same as before. No progress at all. Not a thing to suggest that he was still salvageable. That he could pull through this.

But he had to, he just had to. Despite all his efforts the doctor could see no solution to wake him up. To pull him out of his dreams. Whatever was going on his mind, Hugo seemed to be enjoying his time there. He was still in no pain or discomfort. What could he be going through in this state? There were some cases of coma patients who didn’t even know they were in a coma. They fell asleep one minute and the next they woke up perfectly fine, unaware they had been hanging on a thread for however long they were.

Could that be what Hugo was experiencing? The doctor didn’t like to think that. Hugo had been so imaginative, so full of life. He couldn’t imagine him just being asleep in there not doing anything, creating anything.

No, Hugo was definitely concocting something for himself in there. Of this he was certain.


	2. The Tall Mister

Hugo’s third birthday had come and gone quicker than he or his parents had time to realize. He was growing smarter by the day and could say many more words than ever before.

Despite his increasing intelligence, Hugo still had a tendency to get himself into trouble. He would always have to have at least one of them supervising him at all times or he would be off like a bullet from a gun, exploring every crack and crevice of every place they went to. While they of course tried to discourage this behavior it also pleased his mother greatly. “He’s very adventurous,” she would tell her friends or whoever listened, “he’s definitely going to go places when he grows up. Life is far too simple in the country for someone like him.”

This would probably be true in the future but as it was Hugo was absolutely entranced with his home in the country. He would question every little detail like where the trees in the woods came from, how the animals lived in it, why people kept some animals for pets and killed others, his poor parents could hardly keep up with their boy’s vast curiosity.

His father tried to quell his rapid behavior by giving him new comic books to read, hoping that they might keep him in his room for more than five seconds. He didn’t read the comics himself, he merely picked out the ones with very minimal dialog and that seemed safe for a boy Hugo’s age. Hugo read these comics but he didn’t find them all that interesting. The pictures were exciting enough but he couldn’t understand the purpose of any of it. A man in funny gloves (or maybe he just had freakishly huge and disfigured hands) and no shirt beating up a bunch of Baseball players. Frankly he was surprised his father even got him this comic what with him practically worshiping the sport as a religion.

The only thing that seemed to slow him down slightly was watching television or movies with his mother. For his birthday one of his relatives had given him a movie called “The Wizard of Oz” which his mother was very excited about saying it was one of her favorites when she was a child. On some afternoons he would sit in his mother’s lap on the floor in front of the TV and watch the film. He would get a little squeamish during some of the beginning parts that lulled but once the girl and her dog went to Oz he was completely hooked. He couldn’t look away from the screen even if he were bribed with chocolates or other candies. The magic world of animate scarecrows, men made of tin and anthropomorphic lions was too intoxicating to be pulled away from.

The only thing he could be pulled away from was most scenes involving the antagonist. Oddly enough, the Witch herself didn’t bother him all that much but every time he saw her lean figure and heard her gravelly voice he was reminded of the tall figure he saw in the barn. Hugo was reminded of the tall figure by every little thing or so it seemed. From the scarecrows they would pass on the fields to the village a few miles down the road to his father’s screams at the tiny men playing Baseball in the television. His parents wouldn’t reveal all that much about him the few times Hugo asked them about him, only saying that he should try to avoid him if he could because, “He doesn’t care for kids.” But watching “The Wizard of Oz” awoke a new epiphany in Hugo’s mind…

He suspected that Mr. Dedan was one of the Witch’s personal guards who had come to the country seeking revenge on the girl who melted her. For many nights he would lay awake thinking about the figure from the barn and how he must be plotting some evil scheme to eat the girl with the ruby slippers. But why had he come here, they weren’t anywhere near Kansas! Perhaps he too had taken a twister from his land to this and was blown too far away from his wanted destination. But what if he didn’t know that and really thought he was in Kansas? If that was the case he might do anything to try and get to the girl. Maybe even come for him, or his parents!

He tried to confide in his parents many times about his suspicions, even before he had come to this revelation, but they wouldn’t take him seriously. His father chastised his mother for showing him the movie before he was ready and his mother would defend him saying it was just another fantasy that he would get over in time. But this was no fantasy. This was a very dangerous predicament Hugo had found himself in, and if no one else was going to help him he would have to resolve the matter himself.

It was risky business chasing after monsters. It required great care and no small amount of planning if one even hoped to set two feet in the beast’s lair without becoming its next meal. Hugo went over every detail in his mind for many days starting from how he was going to get out of the house to approaching that barn where the monster slept. He resolved early on that it would have to be at night, when his parents were asleep and the monster would be as well. His parents always left his door open to the hall in case he cried out in need of something. He spent the late hours of a few nights practicing trying to get down from his crib without making too loud a sound, and also practicing getting back in. Hugo was a small child and the distance from the top bars to the floor was quite far from where he stood but he managed to teach himself to use the bars and shimmy downwards stealthfully and land on the floor as lightly as a feather. The tricky part came from learning to climb back up again. The first night he tried it he had almost given up and went to bed on his floor but he knew that would give away the secret that he knew how to escape his crib to his parents. He strained himself very hard to climb up the bars but eventually he managed to slip back under his covers and earn a good night’s sleep. This “good night’s sleep” was abruptly cut short an hour later by his mother who was blissfully unaware of the previous night’s escapades and equally unaware as to why her son was so crabby the rest of the morning.

The next order of business would be arming himself for battle with the beast. The heroes in his stories used very large swords to fell their foes (and there were the comics where the hero used his very large hands) but Hugo couldn’t find any of these lying around his house no matter where he looked. He would often ask his mom if they could watch the movie again for something that would inspire him to find a way to defeat his enemy in an easier way. Finally, after what seemed like the seven hundredth reviewing, the answer came to him in the simplest element of them all… water! If the Witch was so deathly allergic to it then maybe her henchmen were too! None of them seemed all too keen to try and stop the girl from splashing their master so it seemed possible. And why not? It was worth a try at least.

His next trick would be to get his mother to teach him to use the water hose in the garden. He took one of the buckets from the shed one afternoon and told her he wanted to water the flowers to which she laughed mildly and said he didn’t need a huge bucket like that to water a few carnations. She turned on the hose for him anyway, after giving him a smaller bucket, and that was all he needed. He made sure that he knew how to turn on the hose himself a few days after but when he was fully confident that he did he knew he was truly ready to face the monster.

The only thing that remained was a way out to Mr. Dedan’s farm but he had already figured that out long ago. The little hole in the bushes was still there and he could still fit through it. He supposed the harder part would be to carry the water bucket with him which was heavy enough without any water in it. But he would manage. He would accomplish this deed tonight, ending it once and for all. The tall figure in the barn wouldn’t seem so tall when he was a puddle on the wet hay in the barn. That was for sure.

The moon shone brightly over the darkened but familiar garden. The first part of Hugo’s plan had went swimmingly, with him not only managing to successfully make it down without any noise at all, but to creep past his parents open bedroom door without alerting them (and enduring his father’s very loud and almost animal snoring). Getting outside proved a little more challenging as the back door was locked and the handle was much higher than he anticipated. He had foolishly overlooked this seemingly minor detail when he first came up with this plan. He managed to quietly pull a chair from the dinner table over to the door and unlocked it after the difficult task of climbing on it (he had had it up to here with climbing things by this point and hoped he wouldn’t have to again for a long time after this).

Now came the familiar part. Sneaking out of the garden seemed to be the easiest of preliminary tasks he assigned himself on his way to Mr. Dedan. Much to his fears, however, carrying the filled bucket of water along with him proved to be very taxing indeed. To make matters worse it seemed the hole in the bushes became much smaller than he remembered. He managed to squeeze his way along, pushing the bucket before him as he crawled, and took care not to get too much grass stains on his red pajamas.

After what felt like an hour of toil he was finally on the other side of the bushes and saw the house of the tall figure below the hill. He placed both his hands firmly on the handle of the bucket and carried it alongside him as he made his way down. Like the brave knights in his books making their way to slay the dragon he trudged down the hill. Dead-set on completing his task and keeping his family safe.

Despite his conviction and bravery to encourage a full grown man ten times his size, Hugo couldn’t help but feel a little nervous the closer he came to the house and barn. The metal machine that was in the fields before was gone, thankfully, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t keeping watch somewhere secret out of view. He would have to be very careful and tread lightly from here on out. He could see a tiny light emitting from the barn and made his way to hide in the newly grown corn rigs in the field. Awaiting to see or hear anything to give a sign as to where the tall figure could be. He didn’t have to wait long.

“SON OF A BITCH!” Came a familiar voice from the barn after an incredibly loud thud from inside. Hugo could see shadows dancing around the light in the barn. It must be the tall figure, Mr. Dedan. He grasped the handle of the bucket tighter as the voice continued to scream into the heavens as if to wake the dead.

“What are you, huh? Are you fucking brain-dead! Are you just completely retarded?!”

Hugo had never heard these words before and couldn’t imagine what they meant. All he knew was they didn’t sound very nice. He also had no idea who he was talking to in there. Maybe another lackey who had failed to find the girl with the ruby slippers.

Hugo jumped and couldn’t hold back a tiny gasp when the doors to the barn swung open suddenly and the voice cursed a very loud, “PIECE OF SHIT!” He ducked deep in the cover of the rigs and heard heavy footsteps receding from the barn and towards the house. He heard the front door slam hard and waited a few moments afterwards. When he was certain the monster wasn’t coming back out yet he stood up quickly and ran as fast and quietly as he could. He would hide and wait in the barn for the tall figure to come back and then let him have it with the bucket. It was a foolproof plan. He carefully pushed the barn door open large enough for him to sneak through without making too much noise, and closed it slightly to make sure he couldn’t be seen from outside.

The barn looked much bigger on the inside than the out. It seemed to stretch higher than his house and could probably fit it snugly inside it without much effort. But he couldn’t think too much about it right now, he needed to find a good hiding spot to wait for the monster to come back. He lugged his water with him as he surveyed the area. He could have sworn he heard something from outside, towards the house and he began to panic. Without giving the matter another thought he quickly ducked inside the nearest pen and waited inside it. Listening carefully for the footsteps of the tall figure and squeezing the bucket’s handle so hard it bruised his fingers.

A sudden and slow sound from behind him startled him and made him drop his bucket. He spun around on the spot only to come face to face with a lethargic looking cow. Even bigger than he had previously thought it was before. For whatever reason, standing so closely at this creature and learning its true size only increased Hugo’s anxiety and he almost considered finding a new spot to hide. His foot brushed against the fallen bucket on the ground and to his own horror, the water had completely spilled out of it and was now drying into the hay and manure.

No! This couldn’t be happening! Without the water how could he hope to defend himself, to slay the beast? The cow started to moo loudly and he became too angry and scared to remain in the pen. He pushed the small wooden door out of his way but tripped and skidded on his knees. A hot pain coursed through his legs and made him yelp in anguish. Louder than he should have. He needed to escape. He needed to get out of there now and come up with a new plan. He needed to get back in the safety of his crib.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?!”

The angry voice that came from behind him sent a chill down Hugo’s spine. He slowly turned his head behind him and saw the worn out boots and work pants of an incredibly tall man. He dared himself to rear his head upwards and the full image of the giant person became clear to him. He wore an equally worn out brown trench coat with red lining. His arms were crossed and his hands were long and bony. His face was aged and angular, his dark eyes piercing into Hugo’s as they stared at each other.

Hugo was silent as the grave. The tall man did not seem satisfied with this and spoke again;

“Well,” he said bluntly, “spit it out kid, give me one good reason why I shouldn’t skin you alive right now!”

Hugo didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond. The first thing he could do was to cry. Cry for the pain in his knees and for being caught by this tall man who would feed him to the monster for trespassing. The tears kept falling from Hugo’s eyes as the man’s hardened face dropped to an almost frown.

“What’s the matter with you? Come on, cut it out!” He said in a half-hearted attempt to remain intimidating. The boy still wouldn’t respond and was crying harder. His façade was broken further. “Hey, why are you crying?” Hugo was crying so hard that he could barely breathe. At this the tall man kneeled to the ground and all traces of prior cruelty were gone.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Shhh, it’s okay. Everything’s fine, you’re not in trouble.” He made a motion to reach out and comfort the boy but Hugo moved backwards defensively. The man retracted his hand and adjusted his coat sheepishly. “What are you doing out here so late at night?” He asked with, to his own surprise, genuine concern. Hugo was still crying uncontrollably and the only thing the man could make out were the words “I want my mama.”

“Oh, I bet you do.” He said standing up to his full height. “I’m sure she’s worried sick about you. Gosh, I hope you didn’t get too far from your house.” He added to himself. His eyes fell on Hugo’s injured knees. “How did that happen?” Hugo looked down on the blood oozing out of his legs which only caused him to get more upset and cry harder. “Never mind,” the man said shifting his eyes around the barn as if trying to avoid looking at Hugo’s red, watery ones. “Why don’t you come inside and we’ll patch you up? Then we can call your mommy and daddy and tell them where you are so they can come get you.” After debating whether or not he should, he bent over slightly and lowered his open hand to Hugo who stared at it after wiping his eyes. “How does that sound?” Hugo stared at the hand and then into the face of the tall man. He was trying to smile at him but it looked more like he had to poop. Still, the look on his face was enough to convince Hugo to reach out his own hand and grab the stranger’s. As they walked towards the house Hugo couldn’t help but notice how his hand seemed completely buried in the man’s. Or how he had to bend over incredibly low in order to reach it. It looked very uncomfortable, but the man didn’t say if it was or not. Whenever they exchanged glances all he would do was continue to smile at him. Or at least try to smile as best he could.

The man had placed Hugo on a small table in one of the rooms and was now rummaging through his bathroom drawers looking for any first aid kits or band-aids. Hugo waited patiently for him but could not help but still feel slightly uneasy. This man obviously didn’t know that the terrible monster Mr. Dedan was still out there and was making use of his barn, and they were both defenseless without his bucket of water. He couldn’t really tell the man this though, he was lost in his thoughts mumbling to himself as he searched the nearby bathroom for something to dress Hugo’s wounds.

The man was growing more and more frustrated with each empty drawer he came across. He could’ve sworn he had put a bandage or first-aid kit somewhere in these drawers. He could never find something in this God forsaken farm when he actually needed it. “Shit,” he muttered to himself, but not quiet enough.

“What does that mean?” Hugo asked.

“What?” The man said without looking back at him.

“Shit.” Hugo said. He now had the man’s full attention.

“Don’t say that word.” He said sternly.

“What, ‘shit?’”

“Yes, shi- uh, that word. Look just don’t say it okay it’s a bad word.” He was fed up looking in his bathroom and thought maybe he had left something in the dresser by the table where Hugo was sitting.

“But you said it.” Hugo said watching the tall man as he made his way across the room to the dresser.

“Yes, I did,” The man admitted awkwardly, “but it was wrong of me.” He was burying his head in the top drawer trying to hold back many more words that would be wrong of him to say.

“What’s it mean?” Hugo asked again. The man paused at this then finally answered, “Uh… poopy.” Hugo laughed at this as if it were the funniest joke in the world. Kids laughed at the stupidest crap, the man always thought. But the boy’s laughter was contagious and he couldn’t help but let out a tiny chuckle too. The humor in him was short-lived when his search through the dresser proved fruitless.

“Goddam-er-dang it,” he caught himself not wanting to be more of a hypocrite than he already was, “I can’t find nothing in this house!”

“What are you looking for?” Hugo asked.

“I had a first-aid kit I was going to use on the cow outside that probably has a few bandages in it, but I don’t remember where I put it.”

“Is that it over there?” Hugo pointed to the little bar in the kitchen and a white little box on it with a red cross. The man was silent for a few seconds before he chuckled again, more awkwardly this time.

“Oh… how ‘bout that?” He looked down at Hugo as if expecting an answer but all the boy did was stare back at him blankly. He cleared his throat and quickly went to the kitchen. He opened the box and searched its contents until it looked like he found what he was looking for and returned to Hugo.

“Here we go,” He sat down in a chair in front of Hugo and unpeeled the first band-aid. “This might sting a little at first, okay?” Hugo nodded and willingly held out his legs for the man who carefully put the first band-aid on his left knee. It did sting, pretty badly. The man tried to divert his attention from his knees.

“So where’d you come from?”

“The house on the hill.” Hugo said pointing to the nearby window with a view of his cottage. The man looked relieved at this.

“Oh, you’re the new folks’ kid. I had hoped you didn’t come through the woods or anything. But what are you doing out here this late at night?” Hugo wondered if he should tell him this or not but he felt he could trust this man with his secret. He was helping him after all.

“I was hunting a monster that lives in the barn.”

“A monster?” The man asked, feigning excitement to humor the boy. “I didn’t know there were any monsters in my barn.”

“Uh huh, I saw it, it was huge and scary! I was on my way to come kill it when he got away and I ran into you!” The man had just finished making sure the band-aid was secure on the boy’s knee and was moving on to the other one.

“What was it doing before you met me?”

“Screaming at something,” Hugo answered, “he was really loud.” The man paused at this and only replied with an, “Oh,” before going back to patching up his right knee.

“Are you sure you didn’t confuse your monster with my cow,” the man asked him. “That’s the only monster I know of that lives in my barn.”

Hugo shook his head. “Nope, this was a real monster, with sharp teeth and claws and everything!”

“Sure sounds like my cow.” The man laughed. “You know she bit me once?”

“She what?!” Hugo yelled in disbelief.

“It’s true, happened a few weeks ago. It’s only just started to heal.” He patted his leg where the wound was. Hugo couldn’t believe that a cow could actually bite someone. Especially someone like this kind mister.

“Well that was pretty mean of her.” Hugo finally said.

The man smiled, “Yep, she’s a stinker.”

Before Hugo had even realized it the man had finished putting the band-aids on him. He stood up again and put his hands on his hips.

“There you go, feel better?” Hugo nodded happily and began kicking his dangling legs in the air. Even after spending what felt like a really long time with the mister, he couldn’t help but still be awestruck at how big he was.

“How tall are you Tall Mister?” The man was slightly taken aback at being called “Tall Mister” but saw no malice in it like any other name given to him by the local children.

“I’m 6’7.” He answered. Hugo didn’t really understand height measurements but even he knew that was really tall by anyone’s standards.

“Have you always been that big?”

“Well, not always. There was a time when I was no bigger than you are now.” Hugo couldn’t really imagine this. Someone as tall as this man had to have been born tall from the get-go. “How old are you anyway?” The man added.

“I’m three years old.” Now this was something the man had trouble believing.

“Only three? And you managed to sneak out of your house and come all the way down here?” Hugo nodded a little less passionately this time, he knew this was not something he should have done and wasn’t very proud of it when the Tall Mister put it like that. He would never say it out loud but the man had to admit, he was really impressed with this kid. The most he could claim he did at the age of three was stopped breast-feeding.

“Well,” he said shaking off his admiration in replace of logic, “we’d better get you back to your parents. I’ll call them so we don’t scare them when we get over there.” Hugo didn’t like the prospect of letting his parents know he had done all this.

“Can you just drop me off so I can go back to bed myself?” He pleaded, his eyes staring into the man’s like a kitten at a pet shelter begging for a home.

“I’m sorry kid, I can’t do that.” The man said taking the phone out of the receiver, he began dialing the numbers to their home phone and Hugo knew he was in for it when he got back. The man stopped for a minute and addressed him one more time, “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Hugo.” He answered shyly. The Tall Mister smiled at him and finished dialing the number. Hugo sighed and wondered what sort of trouble he was going to get into when he got home. Maybe he would be locked in his room forever or forced to eat gruel for the rest of his life. What’s worse was that now he had no chance of getting that monster in the barn. But he had at least warned the Tall Mister about it and maybe he could finish what he had started. But for now he was busy talking with his parents on the phone. Hugo didn’t listen apart from one sentence near the beginning of it; “This is Mr. Dedan from the farm at the bottom of the hill behind your house…”

Mr. Dedan! He was Mr. Dedan?! But that couldn’t be! This man wasn’t a monster, he had been nothing but kind to Hugo. Maybe it was all a trick and he really did plan on eating him. But he wouldn’t be calling his parents if he intended to eat him. Or maybe that was their punishment for sneaking out of the house! He was going to be eaten and his parents were completely fine with it! He felt so betrayed and confused.

Mr. Dedan had hung up the phone and returned to Hugo. “All right, I told them I’d walk you over.” He placed his hands under Hugo’s arms and lifted him off the table. The poor boy was convinced that he was going to swallow him whole then and there. He was very surprised to find that, in lieu of cannibalism, Mr. Dedan had placed him gently on the floor and was holding his hand again. “Come on, let’s go.”

The walk down the dirt road leading to the front of Hugo’s house was long and silent. Neither Mr. Dedan nor Hugo seemed to know what to say to each other. The former was never any good with children or small talk and the latter was still debating whether or not he was a monster who wanted to eat him. Nonetheless they walked together hand in hand up the dirt road and eventually came upon Hugo’s home. Hugo dreaded every step closer to the front door, from up the porch steps to when Mr. Dedan rang the doorbell. It didn’t take long before his parents were at the door and he was scooped up into his mother’s arms, the same as when he had first wandered into Mr. Dedan’s farm. His father was relieved as well but much less emotional about showing it.

“You have a lot of explaining to do young man,” he said to him, “worrying your mother and me sick, if it weren’t for Mr. Dedan’s phone call we wouldn’t even know you had been gone! What were you thinking?! What if something had happened to you?! Did you consider that?”

Hugo apologized into his mother’s chest and began silently crying again. His mother was obviously quite upset but she said they could worry about giving Hugo a proper talking to in the morning. “Thank you so much Mr. Dedan.” She said while bouncing Hugo in her arms.

“It was nothing, poor little rascal had a bit of a fright and bruised his knees up a bit. I’m just glad he wasn’t from the village or anywhere farther.” He habitually checked his watch and groaned in frustration when he remembered it was broken. He had meant to change out the battery hours ago. All he knew was it was too late at night for him to be up and prepared to head back to his farm. “You’ll be all right now, eh Hugo?” Hugo poked his eyes out from his mother’s chest and looked at Mr. Dedan. He was not one of the friendliest looking people Hugo had ever seen but still he was no monster. He couldn’t think of the last story he read where the monster reunited a lost child with their parents.

“Is there something you’d like to say to Mr. Dedan, Hugo?” His father asked. Hugo had many things he’d like to say to him, but he was getting tired so he made it short.

“Thank you for giving me band-aids and taking me back home, Tall Mister.” He said. He had meant to call him by his proper name but for some reason “Tall Mister” rolled off his tongue easier. The next thing he told him was a little more humbling; “And I’m sorry I thought you were a monster and tried to kill you.”

Now his parents understood. “Oh, Hugo is that what this was about?” His mother turned to Mr. Dedan, “I’m really sorry, he watched a movie and he got it into his head that you were a-”

“It’s quite all right, ma’am.” Mr. Dedan assured her and then turned one final time to Hugo. “And I’m sorry I thought you were an intruder and threatened to skin you alive. I may not have any monsters in my barn, but one of these days maybe you can help me get rid of my cow if she bites me again, huh?” Hugo smiled in approval and Mr. Dedan laughed, much more naturally than he had all night. Hugo’s mother didn’t like the sound of “getting rid” of cows but his father ushered them both inside, thanking Mr. Dedan one more time, and telling them all to go back to bed.

Hugo knew he would have to face the consequences of his actions in the morning but for now he was very happy. Happy that he had been wrong in his assumptions that the Tall Mister was a monster, and even more happy that he had made a new friend. He drifted to sleep, hardly even noticing the strange way the covers rubbed against his bandaged knees.

 

_Finally, somebody! You would think that there’s no one left on earth anymore…_

_What’re you doing here, by the way? This ain’t really a place for you. Ah! But no, for God’s sake, don’t cry… Everything’s fine, come on, calm down. This is only the beginning, it can only get better from now on…_

_Your mother? Don't worry, she'll come back soon, she's just off to see the new world. She's someone really important, you know. Once she's back she'll revive all of this, everything'll work again. We'll reconstruct everything, solely with our bare hands. No exhaustion shall stop us, we'll be the future's builders…_

_Where every man'll have a job, and actively participate to maintain harmony…_

_So, go on out. Have fun. Benefit from this new country, which will soon be reborn from the still warm ashes…_


	3. The Bird

Summer in the country had finally come and that meant Hugo’s father didn’t have to work as many shifts at his job. Hugo relished the time he spent with his father. He was not as nurturing or gentle as his mother but he was much more active. His father wasn’t afraid to get in the dirt with him or rough house. His father would also take this time to try and get his son interested in his favorite sport. He gave Hugo many of the Baseball paraphernalia he had as a kid, from cards to signed balls, and would spend countless hours trying to teach him how to throw a ball in the front yard. Hugo wanted to make his father happy but he didn’t have much of an interest in Baseball. He couldn’t get into it no matter how hard he tried. The phonetics of the sport confused him and the stats on the cards were just as confusing.

He felt like he couldn’t tell this to his father though. On normal days when he had a long day of work he would always come home exhausted and angry, and on incredibly bad days he might even vent his frustration onto his mother or him. Seeing him genuinely happy to watch his son take up his passion was enough to make Hugo keep up the charade of enjoying it.

Baseball didn’t matter today though. He was secured in his safety seat in the back of his father’s car with him and his mother up front, driving to the county fair that was held every summer. Mr. Dedan had told him a bit about the fair whenever he babysat for Hugo when his parents were busy. The fair had many attractions like a dunk tank, a Ferris wheel, and even a petting zoo with animals like goats and ponies. It was all very exciting to Hugo and he could hardly wait to get out of the stuffy car and explore it.

Thankfully he didn’t have to wait long and he could soon see the many booths and attractions set up in the plains with the Ferris wheel stretching higher than even the trees themselves. His parents had a difficult time unbuckling him from his seat as Hugo couldn’t keep himself from bouncing up and down in it in anticipation. After they finally managed to settle him down and unbuckle him they were off to explore what the fair had to offer.

Shooting ranges with BB guns, balloons tied to a board that people threw darts at, and mechanisms that people hit with a hammer to test their strength were only a small number of the games Hugo saw. It was so much to take in; the games, the people, the smells, it was unlike anywhere Hugo had ever been. All he knew was that he wanted to try everything. He wanted to do absolutely everything in the fair. His parents had their work cut out for them as their little boy ran to each booth asking what the game was, how to play it, and if they could afford it. His elation and wonder only increased when he learned you could actually win prizes from the games if you did them well enough. His father had the sneaking suspicion that he would be bankrupt by the end of their visit.

After an hour spent on frivolous carnival games they decided to try some of the more relaxing attractions. His mother suggested they go to the nearby lake where the pedalos were docked. Hugo had never heard of a pedalo before and wondered if it were some sort of animal he could pet, like the goats. Either way he was still just as excited for it as he was any other attraction in the vicinity. Next to the Ferris wheel was a daunting looking attraction that Hugo hadn’t noticed before. Many people were lined up on a metal staircase climbing just as high as the Ferris wheel and boarded a strange car at the top. Then the car would slowly make its way over to the edge of a long slope and descend at a fantastically fast speed, much to the mixed amusement and horror of the people in the cars. Mr. Dedan hadn’t described this ride to him before. It was the only thing in the fair that made him second guess whether or not he wanted to try it or not. His father was braver and asked his mother if it was all right if she watched him for awhile while he tried the ride, to which she accepted, slightly begrudgingly. How strange it was that so many people were screaming on that ride and yet more and more people were lining up to ride it. ‘Weren’t you supposed to avoid things that made people scream,’ Hugo thought.

When they reached the little lake where the pedalos were kept they came across a familiar face; Mr. Dedan had agreed to watch over the pedalos at the behest of the neighborhood committee from the nearby village. Normally he didn’t get involved with the summer fair but the committee had offered him a pretty decent restitution for his services. That didn’t mean he still couldn’t hate it. He probably wouldn’t mind the fair all that much were it not for the children allowed to run wild, away from the eyes of their parents and do whatever their depraved brains wished without second guessing the consequences. He had lost count at how many times he had to tell the little buggers to not crash into each other with the pedalos or to not stand up in them or to not swim in the lake, and so on and so forth. He was in a very sour mood that only worsened as the day went on. His mood brightened a little, however, when he saw Hugo and his mother walking up to him.

“Hi, Tall Mister!” Hugo waved excitedly to him.

“Well hello there little rascal.” He bent over and put his hands on his knees as he addressed Hugo, he bid his mother hello as well. “And how are you enjoying the fair?”

“It’s amazing. I’ve done the dunk tank, the shooting gallery, the balloon darts, the memory game, the petting zoo the-

“Okay, okay, you’ve done a lot, very good.” Mr. Dedan chuckled at the boy’s glowing enthusiasm. “You haven’t ridden in one of the pedalos yet, have you?”

“No I haven’t.” Hugo said. “What the heck is one even?”

“They’re little boats you pedal with your feet,” Mr. Dedan explained, “you see?” He gestured towards the people already in the pedalos in the lake. The pedalos had been used every year ever since the fair had included them, which was more than twenty years. Their paint was chipped and brown due to all the sunlight.

“They look like dying ducks.” Hugo said randomly.

“Huh. You know they kind of do. I’ve never looked at them like that.” Mr. Dedan laughed. “How would you like to ride one?”

“Yes, please!” Hugo yelled.

“Alright, next one that docks is yours.” His mother took Mr. Dedan aside for a second.

“Is there any way he could maybe ride this himself? Normally I’d do it with him but my legs have been killing me all day and I do think I can handle anything like pedaling.”

“I’m sorry but regulations are strict. A boy Hugo’s age needs an adult with him.”

“I see,” she sighed. He could tell she was worn out and needed a break, and he didn’t like the idea of telling Hugo he couldn’t ride a pedalo because his mother was too tired.

“Well, maybe I could ride with him.” He proposed.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, I’ll manage.” She said not wanting to impose.

“Ah, it’s no bother. It’ll give me a chance to stretch my legs a bit.” He had to wonder if he could really stretch his legs all that far in those cramped excuses for canoes, but he kept that to himself. “You can sit at the money booth and rest a bit until we get back.”

Hugo’s mother looked incredibly relieved. “Thank you so much.” Mr. Dedan assured her again that it was nothing and called back one of the people in the pedalos that had been out there long enough. He turned to Hugo;

“Hey little man, ya wanna ride one with me?”

“Really?!” Hugo looked up at the Tall Mister and then to his mother who smiled and nodded her head. “Yeah!”

“Alright then, all aboard!”

At first Hugo didn’t like the way the pedalo wobbled as he got in but the Tall Mister assured him that as long as he was in the boat with him he wouldn’t fall in the water. When they got out further into the lake Hugo felt more and more relaxed. Almost like they were gliding in the air rather than in water. Mr. Dedan was incredibly cramped in the pedalo and his shins would constantly bump on the roof of the inside of it. But the pain was temporary and Hugo was enjoying himself, which was all that mattered.

Hugo spied the ride his father had gotten on a few times as they pedaled around the lake and asked Mr. Dedan what it was.

“They added that in for this year’s fair,” he explained, “one of the top financers thought it might bring in more of a crowd.”  

“Fynaynsir?” Hugo repeated confusingly.

“Someone who helped fund the fair,” he explained. “Some doctor guy back in the city who grew up here.” He looked at the ride in question and scoffed, “It’s a poor man’s excuse for an actual roller coaster. Especially from someone who could afford one.” Hugo didn’t know what to think of roller coasters or of this doctor the Tall Mister was talking about. He wasn’t sure he had ever met any doctors. Or maybe he had and didn’t know it.

“Say,” the Tall Mister said breaking the silence, “how’d you like to steer?” Hugo had the face of a child at Christmas.

The ride home seemed longer than the ride before it. Everyone was exhausted, especially Hugo, and the sun was beginning to creep away behind the valleys. Hugo wished he could have stayed out in the pedalo longer. He imagined himself pedaling out into the sea, calm waters and the sun sinking into the horizon. Not a care in the world, or anyone to tell him what he could or couldn’t do. He supposed it might get lonely being out there by himself. He could always pedal back to land before he got too lonesome though. One day Hugo would have all the freedom he wanted, to go wherever he pleased and explore wherever his mind or feet would take him. But he felt that he would never wish to wander too far from home. He wondered if other people felt the same.

Without prior warning a bright yellow flash slammed into the windshield of the car and fell to the side of the road, causing Hugo’s father to swerve slightly off-road before he steered back and stopped.

“What was that?” Hugo’s mother asked. She had almost screamed when the flash hit the car.

“I don’t know,” his father said. He reared his head back both to make sure Hugo was okay and to see where the thing might have landed. “Both of you stay here for a minute.” His mother called out in protest but his father was already out of the car and backtracking to where the yellow thing had hit them. Hugo tried to turn himself around in his seat but the buckles were too tight. His mother grew impatient and reached back to unbuckle his chair for him, taking him in her arms and exiting the car from her door.

She, with Hugo close at heel, caught up to where Hugo’s father had stopped on the road and was about to say something to him when she saw what he had been staring at. “Oh, that poor thing.” Hugo pushed between his parents legs and saw it too.

A tiny yellow bird trying to fly away but failing miserably. Its left wing was horribly bent and it fluttered around in a circle on the pavement. It was horrible to watch, but also Hugo almost wanted to cheer it on for its tenacity. It wasn’t just lying on the ground accepting the cruel reality that he had been crippled, he was fighting back. Not a lot of injured animals did that.

“Come on,” his father said, “let’s get back in the car.”

“And just leave it here?” His mother asked.

“What else are we supposed to do?” His father replied.

“We can help it,” his mother pointed at the still struggling bird, “we can take it home and try to patch it up.”

“With what? We don’t know how to take care of a bird!”

“We have that birdcage in the cellar, we could put it in that and then take it to the vet the next day.”

“Where are we gonna get the money for a vet?” His father reasoned, “We’re on a tight enough budget as it is and you know it.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” His mother asked angrily. His father turned away.

“Nothing.” He said without looking at her.

“No, it definitely meant something. If you want to say something then say it…”

They carried on like this but Hugo wasn’t listening to them. His only concern was for the injured bird on the road, trying its hardest to get back in the air. Hugo approached the bird carefully and reached out his hand. The bird tried to escape and cried out in pain as it did.

“It’s okay.” Hugo told it calmly. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” The bird stopped. It was breathing heavily and its bent wing was twitching. Hugo held out his hand again, slower this time, and gently petted the bird’s head. He thought it might try to peck him or bite him if birds could do that. But the yellow creature was passive and let Hugo pet him.

“You’re acting like I’m some sort of murderer for not wanting to take a probably infected bird into our house!” His father yelled at his mother.

“I never said anything like that!” His mother retorted.

“Do you just want a new pet? Is that it? We are not going to waste any money trying to heal some bird that would fly away anyway when it was healed! Hugo come on, we’re getting back in the…”

His father stopped when he saw his son staring at both of them. The bird was perched carefully on Hugo’s hand, calmer than he was before. His parents looked at each other then back at him and the bird. Finally his father gave in.

“Fine. Get in the car, we’ll take it with us.”

Hugo hadn’t taken his eyes off the bird the whole rest of the evening. It was now sleeping in the little birdcage his mother got out of the cellar and put him in. She filled a tea cup with water and put it in the cage as well as some paper towel spread out on the floor of it for any leavings.

Hugo watched it while it slept precariously on the little swing hanging from the top of the cage. He was prepared to catch it if it should fall but it never did. It barely seemed to move at all. Were it not for the pained sound of his breathing one could almost mistake it as dead.

Hugo’s mother touched his shoulder gently. “Come on honey, it’s bedtime.” Hugo protested.

“But what if something happens to it mom, I have to keep watch.”

“It’ll be fine Hugo, we’ll check up on it in the morning.” Hugo reluctantly allowed his mother to pick him up and carry him away. His eyes stayed on the bird in the cage until the very last minute when his view was obstructed as they walked down the hall and into his bedroom. She tucked him into his bed, which they had gotten shortly after they learned he outgrew his crib, and kissed him on the forehead. She stopped in the doorway just as she was about to leave and turned back to her son.

“Hugo…” she began, but couldn’t bring herself to finish whatever she was trying to say. “Never mind, good night sweetie.” She then shut the door and left him alone in the dark.

Hugo couldn’t sleep for a long time. He kept thinking about the bird and how he might be dead already if they didn’t help him. But he couldn’t do anything about it. There was nothing in his room to help him reach the door handle and he wasn’t going to risk sneaking out and getting in trouble again anyway. All he could do was go to sleep and hope that the bird was still okay when he woke up. Eventually his anxiety for the injured bird decreased and he began to dream…

Hugo was sailing on a pedalo in a sea of white. He looked out around him and saw nothing for miles. He reached into the water where the pedalo floated and was surprised to not find water pouring down from his hand but what felt like… plastic. He cried out to someone. Anyone. The entire area was the brightest white and he could hear whispers from everywhere around him, and the distant calls of a crow. He was becoming scared. He placed his hands to his ears to try and block out the noise but it only grew louder and more menacing. He told the whispers to stop but they wouldn’t listen. He couldn’t escape. He needed to escape. Hugo stood up in the boat and leaped into the sea.

Hugo regretted jumping into the plastic immediately. He could not see the surface or where the pedalo might be, and he couldn’t swim at all. He sank further and further into the abyss and was losing his breath. His vision became foggy and his lungs were on fire. He kicked his legs and flailed his arms with all his might but he could not stop himself from sinking. Finally he resigned to his fate and began to slip away…

Something had pulled him out of the plastic and was now carrying him away. Away from the empty whiteness and into a realm of color. Hugo’s vision was still foggy and he could only make out the blurry shape of the thing that had saved him. It was humongous. Bigger than the Tall Mister even. Hugo could feel the breeze pass through his short hair and tickle his toes through his pajamas. But suddenly the breeze stopped and Hugo found himself laying on the hard ground. But it wasn’t a ground, it was hard. It felt like cement.

Hugo stood up and finally got a good look at his savior. A huge bird with massive wings, with long legs and an even longer tail. Its head was so large it could easily swallow Hugo in one gulp with only his long, slender neck to really hinder digesting the boy. But the bird didn’t try to eat him, he only spoke…

“Hello, Hugo.” He said. His voice was majestic but soft all in the same tone. Hugo was intimidated but felt he could speak freely with him.

“How do you know my name?”

“You saved me, of course.” The bird replied. Hugo was confused, but after a moment he understood.

“You’re the bird we found on the road!” The bird bowed his head.

“My name is Japhet. I am a seeker of wisdom and happiness.” Hugo’s curiosity switched from Japhet to his surroundings.

“Where are we?” He asked.

“Look.” The bird gestured with his wing to the edge of the square they were standing in. “Be careful though. You don’t want to fall.”

Hugo stepped as close as he could to the edge of the square and gasped in amazement. They were on the roof of a very tall building. Taller than any building he had ever seen. He could see the valley he called his home stretched out before him. He saw where the fair had been, the village just a ways off from that, and in the distance he could even see his own home.

“It’s beautiful.” He said. “Do you live here?”

“Yes,” Japhet said, “this is where all the information I collect is gathered.”

“How much information?” Hugo asked. The bird brought his head close to Hugo’s.

“As much as you can think and more.”

“Wooooow.” Hugo said. He had no idea that the bird he had picked up on the road a few hours ago could be so smart. Then he remembered, “Your wing is better!” Japhet looked at his right wing forlornly.

“No, Hugo. I am still crippled. This is merely an illusion.” Hugo’s heart sunk at this. He wanted his new friend to be better but he didn’t know what to do. As if he could read his mind Japhet continued, “But you can help heal my wound.”

“How?!” Hugo asked anxiously. Japhet stretched his neck over the edge of the building in the direction of a solitary house a little ways north of Hugo’s home.

“In that house lives a man who has had some ornithological experience with my kin in his time.” Hugo made a strange expression on his face that Japhet caught on to. “The man in that house has cared for birds like me before.” Hugo nodded. “If you can convince him to come help you, he’ll know what to do.”

Hugo squinted as hard as he could to get a better look at the house. It was tiny, tinier than his house, with a shed out back. He remembered his parents talking about someone who lived in that house. Someone who kept to himself and didn’t like to meet new people. It would be hard to try and get him to come help, Hugo thought.

“I don’t know…” he admitted. Japhet placed the tip of his wing on Hugo’s head.

“You are unlike most little boys I have encountered, Hugo.” He said. “You are honest, intuitive, and have a good heart. The fine qualities of someone who can lead the timid towards a better purpose. I almost envy you in that regard.” Japhet laughed a warm laugh. Hugo felt totally at peace in this moment. He turned back to the house with the man he needed to help Japhet and nodded. “Okay, I’ll try.”

Japhet bowed his head once more, “That’s the spirit! You can do it Hugo. I believe it, truly.” Japhet then extended his wing to the tip of Hugo’s feet and asked if he wished to fly. Hugo eagerly accepted and climbed atop the bird’s back. They took off into the night sky and flew around the hills and through the empty streets of the village many times. Hugo loved every minute of it. He was not worried about falling, Japhet was very careful about the boy on his back. Hugo felt released. Like nothing in the world could bring him down. He felt free.

Hugo awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs. The sun was shining through his bedroom window and his bedroom door was wide open (his mother opened it every morning after she woke up). The events of last night were still fresh in his mind. Was it all just dream? No, it couldn’t have been. It was much too important to be merely a figment of his sleeping mind. It must have been something more than that. A vision or epiphany of sorts. The only thing he was blanking on was the house that contained the person who could help Japhet…

Japhet! Hugo pushed back his covers, jumped out of bed and ran down the hall to the living room. He climbed the chair to the little desk where the birdcage had been and was relieved to find the yellow bird hanging from the swing and chirping. His wing was still badly broken and it looked like he was still in pain, but he was alive. That was always a positive.

“Good morning Japhet.” Hugo said to the bird. His mother poked her head out from the kitchen where she was cooking.

“Oh, Hugo, you’re up early. Breakfast is almost ready. What was that you called the bird just now?”

“His name, mama.” Hugo answered politely.

“Where did you come up with that name?”

“I didn’t,” Hugo said, “he told me.” His mother smiled to herself.

“Did he?”

“Uh huh, last night. He told me he was grateful for our help and that he knew someone who could help him.” Hugo couldn’t remember who exactly it was though.

“We can talk about that after breakfast, okay. Go wash up I’ll meet you in the bedroom to help you change.”

Hugo wanted to tell her more. “But mam-”

“Later, Hugo,” his mother interrupted him. “Now go wash up.”

Hugo sighed and did what his mother asked. The important thing was he knew how he could help Japhet, he could tell her all about it during breakfast. The only tricky part was figuring out who the man in the house was and how he could coax him out. But he couldn’t let his new friend down. Japhet was counting on him. He would help him no matter what it took.

 

_Hey, be careful. It is dangerous here…_

_You had better not go near the cliff. You could fall and get hurt. Take good care of yourself…_

_What is that in your arms? Is that a book…_

_In these times of misery, it is a very precious treasure…_

_We can discuss about time and the fate of the world…_

_A future where everyone of us will be guardians of universal happiness…_

_Of course, you do not understand a lot of this grown-up talk... You rather should quickly forget our words, the first, bright stars in the dark of the world…_


	4. The Big Mister

Hugo regaled his mother in the details of his dream while they ate breakfast. Some of the details had gotten a little blurry since he woke up but he remembered practically every bit of his conversation with Japhet. The only difficult part for him was remembering where exactly the man who was supposed to help lived. His mother was deeply interested in her son’s dream but did not think much of it.

“I’m going to need to go down to the village later and see if I can’t find any bird seed for him.” She said. “Hopefully a vet too, if we’re lucky.”

“No mama,” Hugo persisted, “Japhet said that the man in the house could help him!”

“Sweetie, your dream sounded very vivid but I don’t think we can rely on a complete stranger to try and help us with the bird. We need a professional.” Hugo sank in his chair. This wasn’t the first time his mother didn’t believe him, although he did admit he was wrong about some of the things he tried to convince her about before. But he was one hundred percent certain about this. He couldn’t wait for his mother to find a vet to help Japhet, he needed help fast or it might be too late. It would do no good to try and push the matter further now, though. Hugo picked at his eggs with his fork and was glum for the rest of the morning. His mother asked him if he’d like to accompany her when she went to the village but he wasn’t in the mood. If this had been a few months or so ago Hugo would have no choice in the matter but whenever Hugo wasn’t up for any outings his mother would always call Mr. Dedan and ask him to babysit. Normally that would cheer Hugo up a bit, but he couldn’t shake off his newly formed depression. He was right back to feeling helpless on how to aid his new feathered friend.

A little later in the afternoon his mother made preparations to leave for the village. Hugo sat on his parents’ bed and watched his mother put something strange on her face. She always did that when she went to places like the village. It was very peculiar to Hugo. Especially because his father didn’t put anything on his face when he went places. Either way it always took his mother a good ten minutes before she was ever ready to leave the house, which sometimes annoyed his father.

From the living room the telephone rang. His mother was brushing her eyebrows with a tiny brush and groaned when she heard it. “Would you please get that, dear?” Hugo jumped off the bed and ran for the phone. He had been taught how to answer it and dial any emergency numbers a few weeks ago and he liked it whenever his parents allowed him to use or answer it.

Hugo quickly climbed the sofa in the living room that was next to the table the telephone was placed on. He managed to grab the phone just as the final ring chimed.

“HELLO!” Hugo screamed into the phone. The first few times he had answered the phone his parents told him he was being too quiet and no one could hear him well enough. So he made sure he projected everything he said very clearly and very loudly. Mr. Dedan was on the other end.

“Hello, Hugo?” He asked.

“HI TALL MISTER!” Hugo screamed again. There was a short silence on the other end.

“…Hi… listen is your mom nearby?”

“SHE’S BUSY PUTTING STUFF ON HER FACE!” There was another brief pause. Hugo wondered if the Tall Mister was feeling all right today.

“Well… listen tell her that I can’t come over and watch you today, my cow’s sick and I need to take care of her.”

“OH NO!!!” Hugo screamed even louder.

“Y-…yes, ow, so please tell her that for me and that I’m sorry okay?”

“OKAY TALL MISTER I’LL TELL HER TH-,” Mr. Dedan cut him off.

“Okay-thank-you-Hugo-goodbye.” He said it so fast it was almost incomprehensible. Hugo heard the click of the Tall Mister’s phone hitting the receiver and then a slow monotone beep. He hung up the phone and made his way back to his mother’s room. He would probably have to get ready to leave too, seeing as how there was no way she would leave him alone without anyone to watch him.

He stopped just as he got to her bedroom door. An idea had come to his head. A risky and potentially awful one. His mother didn’t know that the Tall Mister wasn’t coming. If he could convince her he still was…

But Hugo couldn’t lie or do something dangerous like this again. The last time he did he had made his mother so worried, he didn’t like to do that. But this was a dire situation. Japhet could be on the verge of death for all they knew. No, he couldn’t. He would go with his mother to the village and wait patiently for help. It was the sensible thing to do. The right thing to do.

He walked into the bedroom and stopped in front of the bathroom. His mother was just about finished putting the strange stuff on her face. “Who was that, honey?” She asked as she applied the finishing touches to her eyes.

“The Tall Mister.” Hugo answered.

“What did he say?” Hugo was about to tell her what Mr. Dedan had said, but he stopped again. Despite all reason, despite all his morality telling him otherwise, he said;

“He needs to tend his cow so he’s gonna be a little late, but he said he’ll be over soon.”

“Oh,” she said, “All right then.”

His mother left shortly after. She turned on the television and instructed him to wait by it until Mr. Dedan arrived and to let him in. Hugo agreed, eagerly waiting for her to leave. She kissed his forehead and said she’d be back in a few hours before finally putting on her sunhat, picking up her purse, and walking out the front door.

Hugo waited a few minutes in front of the TV to make sure she was gone. He couldn’t risk making any sudden plans of action at the risk that she may have forgotten something in the house. After about a half hour he was convinced that she was long gone on the way to the village by now. He needed to think. He needed to remember where the house Japhet showed him last night was. He remembered it wasn’t too far from his house, just down the road a little bit. They had probably passed it plenty of times on the way to the village, or even to the fair yesterday. But Hugo could never see properly outside the car windows, his safety seat was too small. He suddenly remembered that when they first came to the village his father was given a map of it and the surrounding area by one of the people who welcomed them. He wondered if he still had it.

Hugo went into his parents’ bedroom again and began looking through the drawers on each side of the bed. There was plenty of underwear, socks, and strange soft circles strapped together by thin string, but no maps. He searched the closet next until he found his father’s suitcase. He still hadn’t gotten around to unpacking some of the things in there. Plenty of Baseball related objects, some books, old pictures, but he couldn’t see any maps. Then he felt something. Paper! He reached in as far as he could without falling into the suitcase and pulled out a folded up piece of wrinkled paper. He unfolded it slightly and saw that it was most definitely the map.

Hugo skipped back to the living room and unfolded the rest of the paper on the floor. The overhead view of the village and the surrounding valley looked just like the view from Japhet’s building last night. He searched carefully for where his house might be and found it. The house was somewhere north of that. But which way was north? He examined every which way within close proximity to his house. There were plenty of houses on the map but nothing that looked the one he…

There! He found it! The small house with the shed out back! It was only a little ways down the road from his house. It wouldn’t take too long to walk there on his own. It would be very brief by the look of things. He folded the map up again and forced it into his pocket. He went into the fridge and got himself a water bottle. It wasn’t supposed to get too hot today but he wanted to be careful. As careful as a three-year-old boy could be walking alone to a stranger’s house.

Before he left he visited Japhet one more time. “Don’t worry,” he said to him, “I’ll be back with help.” He then pushed the desk chair over to the front door to reach the handle and unlock it. He shut the door behind him and walked off down the dirt path leading to the road. He could partially see the Tall Mister’s farm from here and he hoped that he wasn’t looking out in his direction. But he made it down the hill with no trouble at all and now all he needed to do was follow the road down to the house with the shed.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining brightly, not a cloud was in sight, and the warmer air was complimented with a soft breeze that wasn’t too strong but not unnoticeable either. Hugo was careful to keep some distance between him and the road for fear of any cars that might notice him and think him lost. The house he wanted was on the other side of the road, however, and he would have to cross it sooner or later. He passed through several fields of sunflowers and lavenders and was tempted to stop and pick some but pushed forward. He was on a serious mission. There was no time for fun.

He stopped on a secluded boulder and checked his map again. He was getting close to the house and would have to cross the road. His parents always said that he should never try to cross any roads without one of them, but that couldn’t be helped at the moment. He made his way for the road, still cautious about passing cars, and stopped when he was near the very edge of it. He looked around in each direction, listening for any oncoming vehicle. There was not a sound to be heard except for the wind blowing through the grass and the distance chirping of birds. Hugo prepped himself, feeling like there was a huge stone in the pit of his stomach, and broke into a sprint across the road. Hugo had unintentionally closed his eyes while he ran and when he opened them again he was incredibly surprised, and very relieved, to find he had run well away from the road and could see the house with the shed in the distance. He would’ve run all the way there if he could, but the sprint across the road had worn him out. He took a few gulps of his water bottle and walked on. The hard part of his mission was almost over. The even harder part was about to begin.

The house looked smaller up close than it did on the map or from Japhet’s building. Hugo had no idea how that worked but all he knew was that it was the tiniest house he had ever seen. The shed in the back seemed like an upgrade in comparison. Hugo slowly approached the front door and wondered if he should really knock on it. He wondered if maybe he had made a mistake and had chosen the wrong house. Or maybe Japhet was thinking about a house that used to be here but was since removed and replaced with this one.

Well, he was here now. It only made sense to see if someone was inside and if they could help.

He knocked on the door three times. He could hear a noise coming from inside. It sounded like music. Suddenly he could hear heavy footsteps inside heading his way. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he should hide in the tall grass quickly before the footsteps got to him. Maybe he really did have the wrong house. Maybe…

The door opened and revealed the heavy feet that had made the thunderous noise. The owner of the feet was also revealed; a very large man. Not large like the Tall Mister, but certainly bigger than him. He had a round head and a particularly round middle. His legs were very skinny though. Hugo was stunned at his massive physique and as a result was quite speechless. The big mister looked down at him with a blank expression and finally asked;

“Yes, can I help you?” Hugo stammered. All thoughts on why he had come here were gone. The past half hour of walking felt like nothing compared to this eternity. The big mister looked just as confused as he was. “Are you… selling something?” He asked. Still no response. “Are your parents nearby?” Hugo blinked but was still silent as the grave. “Are you… a mute?” Hugo said the first thing that came to his mind…

“YOU ARE ONE BIG MISTER!” Hugo bit his lip. He knew he wasn’t supposed to say things like that but he just couldn’t help it! This mister was the biggest mister he had ever seen. The two stared at each other for a good long minute. Much to Hugo’s surprise the big mister began laughing.

“Hehe, well at least I know you can talk.” His belly shook when he laughed. He reminded Hugo very much of Father Christmas except for the fact that the big mister was clean shaven and bald. “What are you doing here little one?” Hugo began collecting his thoughts and was about to tell him about Japhet when the mister spoke again, “Oh, but your water bottle is almost empty! Come on inside, I’ll refill it.” Hugo was reluctant about this. He had been told many times by his parents to not enter a stranger’s home. The big mister seemed to recognize this suspicion and added, “I’ll leave the front door open, I could use some air anyway.”  Hugo was still wary but he decided to take a leap of faith and go in the big mister’s house. Japhet said he could help him after all, and he trusted him.

The house was just as tiny on the inside as it was on the out. This shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was, but Hugo had almost wished that the house had been under some sort of enchantment and was much bigger on the inside. The world could be so boring sometimes. The whole house was just one room. In one corner (figuratively speaking as the house was circular) was a tiny bed. Small enough that Hugo had to wonder whether or not the big mister could actually sleep in it but he kept that to himself. In another part of the room was a small television. Smaller than the one at his house and with little wires on top of the box. Next to it was a strange device Hugo had never seen before. It was a square object with a weird horn attached to it. On top of the square was a spinning disc that was being scratched with a huge needle attached to a metal arm. Hugo didn’t understand how it worked at all, but it was the source of the music he had heard outside. It was very jaunty.

The big mister was filling up Hugo’s bottle at the sink where he supposed the kitchen was while Hugo sat at the table and waited. ‘How does he live like this,’ Hugo wondered. If he were as big as this man he would find a much more spacious house to settle in. The big mister finished filling up the bottle and handed it to Hugo.

“Here you go. It’s pretty fortunate you came when you did actually. I was just about to make some tea. Do you care for tea?” Hugo grimaced and shook his head. His mother had given him a few sips of her tea a couple of times and he never liked the taste. “Very well, suit yourself.” He put a kettle over the stove and lit it. Hugo waited patiently for it to be finished before he asked the man anything else. There wasn’t a lot to look at in the one room. Except for a picture that caught his eye. The glass in the frame was cracked but he could still see the details well enough.

It was the big mister, not quite as big as he was now, standing in front of a factory holding a pair of scissors and cutting a ribbon. The factory looked enormous. Hugo had never seen any factory like this before. He had only seen them in various places on the road on the way to the village but never quite this big.

“Did you work in that factory?” Hugo asked. The big mister was confused from the question at first but realized what he was referring to.

“I owned it.” He said nonchalantly. Hugo’s eyes widened so that they felt like they would bulge right out of their sockets.

“YOU owned a FACTORY?!” He asked. The big mister laughed again.

“Yep, for almost twenty-three years. Ended up violating one too many health code regulations though and they shut us down. Goes to show you one can never be too careful.”

“What did you violate?” Hugo asked naively.

“People were spreading rumors that we put extra ingredients in our products. Dangerous ones that made them addictive.” Hugo still didn’t really get it but he pressed the matter further anyway.

“Did you?”

“Not to my knowledge.” The big mister answered honestly. “But there were plenty of people who wanted to sabotage me. Maybe they hired someone to do it.” He sighed and took the kettle off the stove as it started to whistle.

“Why would they want to do that?” ‘This boy is full of questions,’ the big mister thought to himself. It was like he was getting a full interview.

“I was a pretty big competitor in my day,” the irony that statement had over him now was not lost to him, “people wanted to level the playing field a bit.” Hugo didn’t think this was fair at all. Why would people intentionally make someone look bad? Didn’t their mother’s teach them about honesty? Hugo suddenly realized he had overlooked one important question.

“What did you make?”

“Cakes.” The big mister answered. “That was our main selling point. But we also had plenty of other sweets like chocolates and lollipops. We were a sizable empire in the sweets department.” Hugo didn’t understand the business talk but he certainly knew about cakes and chocolate. He licked his lips just at the mention of such delicacies. The big mister joined him on the opposite side of the table and placed the kettle in between them. He poured the kettle into a teacup that was so tiny he had to lift it with his thumb and index finger. Before he could drink he gasped and went back to the kitchen area. He pulled something out of the cupboard and sat back down.

“Almost forgot.” He said, and placed a white cube on the table. He picked a little bit off the edge, crushed it in his palm and sprinkled it into the teacup. After this was complete he sipped the tea very loudly. “Ah, c’est manifique.” He said closing his eyes. Hugo was staring at the cube on the table.

“What is that?” He asked. All these questions. The big mister wondered if his thirst for curiosity would ever be quenched.

“A sugar cube.” He said plainly. Hugo’s eyes brightened at the word ‘sugar.’ The big mister smiled. “Would you like a piece?” Hugo nodded excitedly. The big mister took another little piece off the cube and handed it to Hugo who plopped it into his mouth as if he had fasted for months and was only now getting something to eat. The big mister laughed once more. Hugo liked his laugh. It was one of the happiest laughs he had ever heard.

“Enjoy that while you can,” the big mister said to him in between sips, “someday you won’t be able to eat as many sweets without suffering the consequences.” He looked down at his hulking frame and seemed sad as he did. He shook these feelings away when a thought occurred to him. He didn’t know who this boy was or what he wanted here. An easily remedied problem.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, who are you?” Hugo was still sucking on the sugar in his mouth but he paused long enough to answer.

“I’m Hugo.” The big mister nodded. “A fine name,” he said. Now it was Hugo’s turn to ask. “What’s your name?”

The big mister looked a tad embarrassed at this. “It’s Enoch.” He said. Hugo made a funny look on his face.

“I’ve never heard that name before.” Enoch shrugged.

“My parents. They were Jewish.” Hugo was about to ask what a “Jewish” was but Enoch cut him off. “Now where did you come from, little man?”

Hugo told him about his trek from his home a ways down the road to here and about the dream he had last night. How his bird had told him that Enoch would know how to dress his wounds. Enoch listened to Hugo’s story, quite shocked that a boy this age could travel such a distance from his home all by himself. How strange it all was. He had never met Hugo’s parents, or even told anyone around here that he used to look after birds as a hobby. Yet this little boy had had a dream that explicitly told him both where he lived and a bit of his life as well. Maybe it was fate or destiny. Or maybe the boy had really specifically weird dreams that could apply to real life if forced.

“So will you please come help my friend?” The boy finished. Enoch raised his cup to his lips but realized he had finished it already.

“I…” he didn’t really know how to put this to a three year old. “I don’t really leave my hut all that much Hugo.” Hugo tilted his head. “Why?” He asked.

“Well…” Enoch began, “I just, fell out of touch with the rest of the world when the factory was shut down. I put my life into that factory. The workers there were like a family to me, more so than my actual one. When I realized one or more of them was stabbing me in the back I… I didn’t take it well. I moved out of the city to this hut to escape all the stress and I looked to… other things to sate my anxiety.” Enoch looked very pained when he told Hugo all this, but he didn’t stop. While it was opening old wounds for him at the same time it was easy for Enoch to admit these things about himself. As if he had always known it and only needed someone who didn’t to admit it.

“Other people look to keeping pets or doing outdoor activities when they feel unsatisfied with themselves… I looked to food. My own recipes and creations that people loved so much, I gorged myself with. I always thought I was a decent cook but, it felt satisfying…” He couldn’t finish what he was trying to say. Hugo had never seen an adult cry, but there were tears falling from Enoch’s cheeks as he spoke. Hugo frowned empathetically. Still Enoch went on…

“Eventually it got to a point where I just hid behind it. I stopped going outside this hut and started ordering all the groceries and other things I needed by phone. And it winded up leading me to,” he gestured to his body. He glared angrily at the sugar cube on the table. “I’m nothing more than a shadow of the man I was.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes. “A useless tub of lard, biding my time until diabetes or some other disease kills me.” Hugo was beginning to cry too. He wanted to say something to the big mister. To tell him it was going to be okay. The things his mother told him when he was sad. But he was at a loss for words. All he did was watch Enoch cry into his handkerchief.

“Ah,” Enoch suddenly roared, “listen to me talk.” He dried his eyes one last time and threw the handkerchief in the nearby waste basket. “Wallowing in self-pity in front of a toddler.” He laughed, though Hugo could tell it was forced and humorless. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” Hugo wiped his own eyes. He got down from his chair and walked over to the side of Enoch.

“I don’t think you’re useless.” He said earnestly, looking up into Enoch’s red eyes. “My friend says you can help him. He believes in you.” He put his hand on Enoch’s. “So I do too.”

Enoch looked down at Hugo’s hand in his own and then back into the boy’s smiling face. Who exactly was this boy? To put so much blind faith in a complete stranger? All because of a dream no less. He was still afraid. Still filled with self-doubt and anxiety. He had been stuck in this rut for so long he didn’t know if there was a way out. But seeing Hugo look up at him with confidence, such naïve hope…

“All right.” He sighed and raised himself out of his chair. “Let’s go see about your friend.” Hugo jumped for joy and hugged Enoch’s leg. Enoch’s eyes shifted nervously. He didn’t like the way the situation of a little boy touching him affectionately when they were alone in his secluded hut looked but he patted Hugo’s head the same way one would pet the head of an excited pup. Hugo led the way out of the hut after Enoch had gotten what he needed for Japhet, skipping merrily with every step.

Enoch kept a truck in the shed out back and said they would use that to drive them back to Hugo’s home. It was tight fit for both of them to get into the front seats of the truck, and even tighter for Enoch to try and adjust the gears and turn on the ignition. They managed though and were on their way in no time at all. Hugo acted as the navigator while Enoch was his trusty shipmate at the helm. Although, Enoch proved to be a little rusty at this particular ship as every other meter the truck would stop abruptly in the road and jerk them forward slightly in their seats. Enoch hadn’t driven a car in a very long time, to say nothing about a stick shift truck. He remembered when his parents taught him how long ago they said he would never truly forget how, much like riding a bicycle. He couldn’t help but chuckle in remembrance of this. When was the last time he thought about his parents?

They finally arrived at the dirt path leading up to Hugo’s home and the boy began jumping in his seat as they drove nearer and nearer up the driveway. When they had parked and gotten out of the truck Hugo ran for the front door and began madly jumping to try and reach the handle. Enoch came up behind him, only now wondering if he should really be going into Hugo’s house without his parents being there.

“Is uh, is it locked?” He stammered.

“No.” Hugo grunted as he kept jumping. “It should be open.” He finally gave up and laid down defeated on the porch. Then he rose up again. “Oh yeah, you can open it!” Enoch was startled by this. He was pretty sure that this could count for breaking and entering (not to mention the ramifications of a middle-aged man alone with a little boy he had only just met). He almost considered just letting Hugo in the house and driving back to his hut, but the look on Hugo’s face was hard to deny. Enoch had truly gone soft in the years since he was a foreman. He reached out for the door handle and pushed the door open. Hugo wasted no time in going inside and bolted for the living room desk.

“Japhet, I’m home! And I brought the man who’s supposed to help you with me! Enoch, come in here!” Enoch timidly stepped inside. It was a very nice house. Relatively small but still larger than what he had become accustomed to. Hugo beckoned him over to the desk with a little birdcage on it. Enoch went to the desk and, with a little difficulty, got down on his knees to get a good look at his patient. It was a handsome yellow bird that he was fairly certain wasn’t native to the valley. Its wing was horribly bent, and the thing looked a little malnourished.

“Alright,” he said to Hugo, “let’s move the cage over to the kitchen table. I can treat him better there.” Hugo agreed and watched anxiously as Enoch lifted the cage and carried it over to the table. He took some paper towels from nearby the sink and laid them out neatly on the table as well. Carefully, he then picked up Japhet from the cage and put him to rest on one of the paper towels. He pulled another handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his sweating forehead.

“I haven’t done anything like this in a very long time.” He admitted to Hugo who was staring at him expectantly.

“It won’t hurt him will it? Whatever you’re gonna do?” Hugo asked.

“Temporarily,” Enoch said. He sprayed some sanitizer on his hands and rubbed them together profusely. “But it’ll be over before he knows it.” Hugo was comforted with this. He stretched his legs as far as he could to poke his head up on the table but he didn’t need to worry. Japhet was in good hands. Enoch rolled up his sleeves and cleared his throat. “Now let’s see what the damage is.”

Japhet was very still as Enoch examined him. His bent wing twitched at the touch but he made no effort to try and escape nor voiced any discomfort. And Enoch was sure to be very gentle with the little bird. But to be frank, he was quite surprised at how unserious this injury was. “You said he flew into your car?” He asked Hugo who affirmed it once more. Enoch had seen birds with far worse injuries than this that had flown into cars. Of course it depended on how fast the car or bird was going but a little bird like this one should have probably died from any collision with a vehicle. When he was done examining Japhet, Enoch put him gently back on the paper towels. “It’s nothing too serious at all.” He told Hugo, “he just needs a little gauze around it and it should take care of itself in a matter of weeks.” He pulled out a few rolls of tape from his pocket (Hugo wondered how much stuff he actually had in there) and slowly rolled the tape over and under the bird’s wing. When he was satisfied he stuck the tape together and patted Japhet on the head.

“Et voila.” He clapped his hands. “He’s on the way to recovery.” Hugo jumped for joy. “I knew you could do it Enoch!” He kept saying, Enoch blushed as he put Japhet back in his cage. “Do you have any food for him?” Hugo shook his head and said his mother was on her way to go get some.

“Wait with me until she gets here!” Hugo pulled on Enoch’s shirt. Enoch was reluctant, unsure how his mother would react to him intruding in her home but it also didn’t make much sense to leave Hugo all by himself. There was no telling when his mother would get home. So he agreed and sat with Hugo near the television, which Hugo had left on, as they waited for his mother.

Enoch didn’t understand children’s programming. Four creatures wearing what looked like burlap sacks and phallic symbols attached to their heads were spouting random gibberish and running around through a field while the animate sun watched them and giggled as they played. Hugo seemed to enjoy it but Enoch couldn’t fathom why. This show was starting to freak him out, and he would be the first to admit that he was dangerously prone to anxiety attacks but a children’s television show was never the trigger for any of them before this. If it were up to him he would’ve shut the TV off long ago but he was Hugo’s guest and wouldn’t be so rude as to hinder his cognitive brain development. This show had to be educational at some point right? Seventeen more minutes of the creatures popping in and out of holes and giggling more nonsense words told him otherwise.

He was incredibly relieved when he heard Hugo’s mother enter the door. So relieved he had forgotten that she had no idea who he was. She stood in the front doorway for a moment with a bag of birdseed in her left arm and a look of pure horror on her face. Enoch wanted to say something to assure her he meant no harm but all that came out was; “The boy, he smordetilam floo fla bo ninny.” She didn’t look convinced.

Hugo ran up to her and was about to tell her how Enoch had healed Japhet and saved the day but his mother pushed Hugo behind her with her free arm and began backing out the door. “I don’t know who you are,” she said trying to sound intimidating, “but my husband is the commissioner of the police and if he finds anything missing or us hurt he is never going to stop hunting you down.”

“But mama,” Hugo said, “papa’s not a police-,” his mother cupped her hand over his mouth. “Head for Mr. Dedan’s farm, Hugo, I’ll be right behind you.”

Enoch tried to stop her, “No, please it’s not what you think. I was just-,” he was interrupted by Hugo’s mother who had quickly pulled out a red bottle from her purse and sprayed its contents into Enoch’s eyes. He was now writhing on the floor and covering his eyes with his hands. Hugo broke free of his mother’s grasp and stood between her and Enoch just before she could get in another kick at his stomach.

“No mama!” Hugo exclaimed, “Enoch is my friend! He helped Japhet!” His mother looked at her son in bewilderment. Then the adrenaline subsided and she began to think clearer. Where was Mr. Dedan? Why wasn’t he watching over him like Hugo said he would. “Hugo, what’s going on?” She folded her arms and gave Hugo a look that he knew meant he was in for it.

Hugo told his mother that the Tall Mister was busy tending to his cow and that he took this opportunity to go get help from the man Japhet told him about the previous night. How Enoch had agreed to help him and drove them both back here in his truck and bandaged Japhet’s broken wing. His mother listened with a blank expression on her face. This was the worst expression she had, Hugo decided. He couldn’t tell if she was angry or not with this face, but she most often was when she made it. Enoch stayed down on the floor, still in a great deal of pain. He remained immobile and stared at the ceiling while Hugo explained the past hour to his mother. He didn’t want to invoke any more of her wrath by making any sudden movements.

“I see.” She said when Hugo had finished. “So you lied to me.” Hugo looked at his feet and nodded slowly. “And you went outside by yourself again even though we’ve told you to never to do it again.” Hugo nodded again. His mother rubbed her eyes then said in a very stern voice, “That was very wrong of you Hugo. Do you have any idea how much danger you could have been in?” Hugo didn’t respond at that and continued staring at his feet. “Look at me young man.” Hugo raised his head and stared into his mother’s eyes. They were filled with more rage than he had ever seen but her face remained neutral. “You are in a serious amount of trouble for what you’ve done. Do you understand that?” He nodded. “Do you really?” Hugo didn’t know how many times he could nod before she finally believed him. Her eyes broke contact with his and looked at Enoch still lying on the floor. “We’ll talk more about it later.”

She helped Enoch to his feet and began apologizing. Enoch wouldn’t hear any of it. “I should be apologizing to you. It was totally out of bounds for me to intrude on your home, I should have waited on your porch or something of the like. But the boy was so worried about his bird I couldn’t think straight. But that’s no excuse at all, forgive me madam.” He bowed many times over. It almost seemed like they had entered a contest between who was the most sorry. Eventually they came to a stalemate and Enoch said he would leave without causing any more troubles.

“Thank you for watching him,” his mother said, “I’m sorry if he forced you to do any of this.”

“Oh, no, far from it madam,” Enoch said as he stepped out on the porch, “this little man was probably the sweetest person I’ve met in a very long time.” He smiled at Hugo who grinned back. “That bird is going to need to have its tape replaced in about a week, I have some tape if you’d like to-,” Hugo’s mother had a better idea.

“How about you just come back over then?” Enoch was just as stunned as Hugo was. “M-m-me?” He managed to ask. “You seem to be very good with him, and I know my husband and I would certainly muck the whole thing up. I’ll pay you for it if you want.” Enoch waved his hands in protest.

“Oh, please, money is of no concern to me I have plenty of that. B-but, I suppose if it’s truly all right I can come back in a week and see how it’s doing.” Hugo became excited again, almost forgetting the imminent punishment in his near future. “In the meantime,” he spoke to Hugo now, “make sure he gets plenty of food and water and change out the toilet paper when it gets too messy.” He added, “and read something to him as well.” Hugo’s mother was bemused at this.

“I didn’t know people did that.” She admitted. Enoch shrugged.

“I used to do it for the birds I watched. I don’t know why but it seemed to make them calmer. Or perhaps it didn’t. Maybe it’s just a ‘me thing.’” Hugo still took Enoch’s words to heart. Japhet seemed like the kind of bird who liked being read to anyway.

Hugo said his thank yous and waved Enoch goodbye as he squeezed in his truck and drove down the dirt path to the road and out of sight. His mother returned her attention to Hugo again.

“Now, go in your room and wait until your father gets home. We’re going to have a long talk about what you did today.” Hugo’s heart sank clear into his stomach. “Yes mama,” he said and began the slow walk of shame to his bedroom. His mother turned off the TV behind him. “And you can say goodbye to this for a while.” She said bluntly. “Yes, mama.” Hugo repeated.

Hugo sat alone in his bed waiting for his father to come home and sound the bells of his doom. Normally when he was sent to his room to await punishment Hugo would be much more upset and make a fuss for all in the house and hillside to hear. But despite his own feelings about lying to his mother and the dreaded expectation of what his father would do to him, Hugo didn’t feel like crying. At the same time as feeling remorseful for deceiving his mother he also had a huge sense of satisfaction in him. He had done as Japhet asked, he had helped Enoch come out of his home and by doing so had ensured Japhet’s survival. Even if he was to be punished, at least he had done a small act of good service before his sentence. Hugo’s eyes began to droop uncontrollably. It had been a long day and he wasn’t allowed to read any books or comics when he was awaiting punishment. There was nothing else to do but to drift back into dreamland for a little while. Hugo laid his head on his pillow and slowly faded away from the real world and into his own…

The details of the dream he had while he napped were less profound than the dream he had last night. The only thing he could remember was seeing the blurry shape of Japhet, in his larger size, looking down at him. He could have sworn they had a longer conversation but all he could remember of what Japhet said to him were two simple words;

“Thank you.”

 

_Eh! You, down there, come here…_

_Hehe, hey, little one, I’m stuck. Can you help me get out of here…_

_If you go look for someone to help me, I'll bake you some cakes! They are going to be delicious, you'll see…_

_Hehe, thanks boy. I see we can count on you…_

_Until your mother arrives, maybe we could keep you company..._

_Where it will be allowed to dream of a happier life at any moment, and where our sons can touch our hope…_

_You have no time to lose! No need to listen to the lyrical babble of three crazy utopists…_

_I promised you cakes, and I keep my promises! You will be swimming in an ocean of sweets soon…_


	5. The Queen and The Batter

Something was going very wrong.

Hugo remained unresponsive but his coma seemed to be getting worse. As the weeks had flown by the doctor had held on to hope that the boy could get better and eventually wake up from his perpetual sleep. But things only seemed to be getting worse.

Hugo’s mind was shutting down. Slowly but surely parts of his brain were closing off and if they did not hurry his brain would be nothing more than putty in his cranium. That is if he even lived that long. His other problem was getting increasingly worse as well. Despite all the treatment from before he had been comatose, despite all the doctor’s efforts, his ailment was only getting worse.

It seemed as if it was becoming a race. A race between which one would be the end of him.

He needed to keep going. He needed to do another test…

 

Summer began to fade away and the crisp air of autumn took its place. It was too early for the leaves to change their color and fall from the trees they clung so desperately to, but the changes were still noticeable, no matter how slow they appeared to be. The most obvious was that the tight leash his parents had on Hugo was becoming loose again. His punishment for the stunt he pulled a few months ago had been much more severe than any consequence he had ever received. He was not allowed outside without his mother or father watching him, no television, he was not allowed to answer the phone anymore, and he was restricted from any sweets. That last one had been the cruelest in his opinion. Especially since Enoch had brought over a freshly baked cake the next week to check on Japhet which had to be confiscated and put in the fridge (Hugo was certain he heard his father or mother eating it later that evening).

The only solace he had during this long sentence was that he was given full responsibility of Japhet. His mother helped with the food and toilet paper every now and then but ultimately caring for the little bird fell entirely on Hugo’s shoulders. This was one chore Hugo didn’t mind at all. He would carry on many a conversation with the bird and read many of his stories and comics to him (always showing him the pictures inside). Hugo hadn’t had a visit from Japhet in his dreams ever since the day Enoch mended his wing but he didn’t mind. Japhet was a very important bird, he was probably busy collecting things for his building and seeking happiness.

Enoch helped him too. True to his word he came back once every week to replace the tape on Japhet’s wing and bind it again with newer tape. Every time he finished Hugo would ask when the wing would heal and Enoch would always say it was never really certain but it shouldn’t be too long. Hugo wondered if adults had a different understanding of time than he did. What they said as “five minutes” took about an hour and what they said wasn’t “too long” lasted for weeks on end. Hugo could be patient when he needed to be but the anticipation of  Japhet finally being a hundred percent healed was too grand a thought to wait for. But nothing really great like that ever seemed to happen immediately. His mother had always said, “all good things to those who wait.” If they were really all that good they’d get here sooner.

Another change began to take place in their tiny household. One that Hugo didn’t really like. His father had grown distant, less energized, and generally colder to him and his mother. At first Hugo didn’t see any change in him at all. Every other day when he came home, after the anger stemmed from his son’s reckless behavior subsided, he spent a good while playing with Hugo and being the same loving father he had always known. But in recent weeks he was very short with both of them. He would come home exhausted and immediately slump towards the couch and turn on the television. And since Hugo wasn’t allowed anywhere near it he couldn’t go and greet his father the way he used to.

He and his mother would also get into very loud fights at random times during the day. Often they wouldn’t even have any prelude, they would suddenly just begin and wouldn’t stop until both parties had screamed themselves hoarse. And these fights would just as often end with his father leaving the house and going somewhere for many hours. Hugo would sometimes wake up in the late hours of night and hear his father coming home. He could hear through the walls his father throwing up in his bathroom and another fight breaking out between him and his mother. He didn’t understand why they were fighting all the time now. They had never fought this much before he was being punished. Was that it? Were they fighting because of him? His father would often grumble to himself when he got home and one of the distinct things Hugo made out from them were words like “that damn bird” or “will somebody shut that thing up.” Was his father mad at him for keeping Japhet? Hugo didn’t like to think about these things but he couldn’t stop himself from doing it constantly. And every time he did he would always spend a half hour crying himself to sleep.

On top of that Hugo could feel there was something else going on. Some other change that was happening. It wasn’t something like the weather getting colder or the leaves changing color or anything else external. It was something inside him. Something that just didn’t feel right. It was probably nothing but he couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something happening to him. Slowly…

He didn’t tell his parents though. They had enough problems dealing with him he didn’t want to make them even angrier. Hugo did his best to push it out of his mind and for a while managed to convince himself that nothing out of the ordinary was wrong with him. This too would change.

In the last weeks of August, Hugo’s mother had gotten a job in the village town hall. This meant that Hugo would be left in the care of either Enoch or Mr. Dedan. Enoch was far more lenient on Hugo than he should have been and would always give him little bits of sugar from his stock when he was over. He couldn’t help himself from spoiling the child, even in small amounts. The two would often talk about how Japhet was doing and a bit about Enoch’s old factory. He had become much more open about talking about his personal life with Hugo and was no longer sad when he did. Some parts of him remained an enigma but everyone had secrets they kept to themselves, even from their most trusted friends, and Hugo respected that. In preparation for when Hugo entered school, and at the behest of Hugo’s mother, Enoch would pose various questions for Hugo relating to math or reading. Simple things like “2+2” or how to spell words like “boat” or “bird.” Hugo was a fast learner though and it didn’t take long before he became a master of simple mathematics and could spell words like “consistency” without skipping a beat.

“How did you get to be this smart?” Enoch would always tease him. Hugo had never considered this. It wasn’t that he was particularly fond of learning, it just came easy to him. He much rather preferred to spend his time outside in the open air or spending time with his parents or friends and especially tapping into his own mind and fantasies. If he could have his wish he would do any of these all the time in favor of studying math or reading.

But he also didn’t mind these things either. He would never complain or say in protest “I don’t want to do this,” he would always take the time and learn all he could from his parents or tutors. And besides, Enoch would never linger too long on it. At the most he dedicated an hour’s worth of time for any lessons and then they spent the rest of the day talking or listening to music on his machine he called a “phonograph” (one of the more advanced words he had Hugo learn to spell).

They would also take little walks through the countryside as well. Enoch told him many times he was making it a point to be more active and that even these little walks could make all the difference in the long run. They wouldn’t wander too far from his hut and would most often take a trail through the woods nearby. The trees towered over them as they walked through the undergrowth. Hugo could hear birds calling to each other from above and sometimes would see a red squirrel climbing and jumping across different branches. Enoch became very peaceful in these environments and would often speak freer than he had ever before.

“There was a small patch of trees like these where my factory was built.” He said looking up to the canopy. “We had to tear them down when we bought the land.

“It’s a pity,” he continued, “Sometimes in order to further the progress of one side another must be ended.” They walked on as Enoch continued to ponder to himself. “They never bothered to tear down that old thing.” Hugo stared at him. He wondered if Enoch even remembered he was still with him. “It’s still there, collecting dust and mold. Probably a real safety hazard. I heard once that a few plants had begun popping out of the ground and growing all over inside it.” Enoch laughed to himself. “Just goes to show you doesn’t it?” Hugo concurred, even though he didn’t know what Enoch was saying. Hugo liked to think to himself when he was in the forest as well. Only his thoughts were more focused on the idea of being an animal and living in the trees, or looking for any hidden fairies, or the spectres that only came out at night in the darkest parts of the woods. Maybe one day when he was older, and allowed to do such things by himself, he could explore the forest more and see all he could for himself. The path was so tiny in comparison to the whole forest. Why did they make these paths so tiny? Hugo would find this answer and many more. Someday.

Hugo would also be left in the care of Mr. Dedan, as he had been many times before his punishment. Only now that he had a limit on the things he could do at home Hugo spent most of his time over at Mr. Dedan’s farm, helping him tend to the cow and help him pick the vegetables in the field. Hugo liked menial labor as much as he liked all the tutoring Enoch gave him. Mr. Dedan gave him some tutoring too, only it was things pertaining to real life barnyard analogies. Like two girls named Holly and Suzie having two and three Beets respectively. And if they each gave Robert, who had seven Beets, one Beet how many Beets would Robert have all together. Hugo didn’t know who any of these people were and always ended up being really confused by the end of each puzzle the Tall Mister presented him. The Tall Mister didn’t seem too fond of them either and would always end up throwing his arms in the air and yelling, “Oh fuck it-I mean screw it-I mean-fuck-shit-dammit just pick some Beets!” Hugo would never say it to his face but he always thought it was incredibly funny whenever the Tall Mister would get mad. But then the Tall Mister didn’t get mad around him all that often anymore. At the very worst he would just get a little peeved and would never raise his voice too high at Hugo. If someone had told him a year ago that he would be letting a little kid handle his vegetables, help him tend to his livestock and water the crops, and even ride with him as he rode his tractor out on the field Mr. Dedan would have to wash his mouth out several times with soap in order to let them know just how much of an idiot they were. Yet here he was, plowing the field to make way for new crops for the autumn season with the little rascal sitting on his lap, happily bouncing as the tractor went along the field. He couldn’t help but laugh in his throat at the unexpectedness of life. There was never any way of knowing what was around the corner. For good or bad.

The sun was beginning to set earlier in the evening and soon it would be time for Hugo to go back home. He sat on the familiar table in Mr. Dedan’s house as he watched the Tall Mister log all the crops he had picked to go to market. Hugo was not very excited to go back home and the Tall Mister was quick to pick up on his glum expression.

“What’s the matter Hugo?” He said looking up from his clipboard. Hugo was reluctant to admit what was going on but he was never any good at hiding things from the Tall Mister. Sooner or later the truth would weasel its way out whenever he was concerned.

“My mama and papa are fighting a lot.” Mr. Dedan nodded his head slowly. “I think it’s because of me.” Mr. Dedan put down his clipboard and pencil and took a seat in front of Hugo.

“Now don’t you believe that for a second.” He put his large hand on Hugo’s shoulder. “Parents may argue sometimes about a lot of things, but it is never a child’s fault. Whatever issues they may have between each other right now they need to work out for themselves, and I know they don’t blame you at all for them. Your parents love you very much Hugo.”

“Papa doesn’t anymore.” At this the dam holding back Hugo’s tears burst.

“No, no no no,” Mr. Dedan kept repeating as he embraced Hugo. “Your father loves you very much Hugo. Sometimes adults can just lose sight of what’s important for a little while. It doesn’t mean he’s stopped loving you.” Mr. Dedan patted Hugo’s back gently while he cried into his trench coat. “The kind of love a parent has for their child is one of the most powerful feelings of them all. No matter what you do, how many mistakes you make, they will never stop loving you. They will get mad, lose their patience at times, but it comes from a good place. Your father loves you and I’m sure he still loves your mother. He’s just going through a rough patch right now.”

“You really think so?” Hugo asked, his voice muffled from Mr. Dedan’s coat.

“Of course.” Mr. Dedan placed Hugo on his lap. “Everyone goes through some rough patches at some point in their life. Even us adults.” He laid his massive hand on Hugo’s head and tussled the boy’s hair. Hugo still had his doubts.

“Do you think he and mama will ever stop fighting?” Mr. Dedan hesitated.

“I don’t know Hugo.” He answered truthfully. “I was just thinking earlier, you can’t be sure of anything.” He saw Hugo’s eyes sink again and added, “we can only assume for the best.” He brought his fist under Hugo’s chin and bumped it playfully. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

The nearby clock on the wall struck seven times and reminded Mr. Dedan that it was well past time for Hugo to return home. The boy was a mess of tears and he didn’t have any tissue on him. Improvising he held out the very edge of his coat, “Here dry your eyes.” Hugo did, and also blew his nose on it subconsciously. Mr. Dedan shrugged this off. ‘What’s another stain,’ he thought to himself.

“Right then,” he said gently putting Hugo on the floor, “let’s get you home.”

Hugo was about to take Mr. Dedan’s hand but stopped. Suddenly he began coughing violently into his own hand. Hugo had gotten little coughs many times before but never anything like this. These coughs hurt him as they came and exited out his mouth. They left a burning sensation in his throat and what felt like a heavy weight in his chest. It felt like a full minute before he stopped.

“Hugo, are you all right?” Mr. Dedan said anxiously. Hugo said yes, not knowing if he really was or not, and added he really wanted to get home.

They found Hugo’s mother at the kitchen table, crying. His father was gone. When she saw them she hastily wiped away her tears and thanked Mr. Dedan saying they would be fine for the rest of the night but he would have none of this. He insisted to know why she had been crying and where Hugo’s father was. Hugo was sent to bed early with a bowl of soup and a glass of water.

He lingered in the hall for a few moments and could hear his mother’s quivering voice confessing something to the Tall Mister. He could still vaguely hear them from behind his closed door but he didn’t know what they could be talking about. His father most likely. What the Tall Mister told him earlier still rang in his mind. If his father really still loved his mother, why was he leaving all the time when he knew it made her upset? Did he not care that she was crying? These questions remained unanswered for many more nights. More nights of arguing, of leaving, and of crying. Hugo’s optimism was running thin. He wanted to take the advice the Tall Mister had given him but with all the things going on between his parents… would everything really be fine?

His cough persisted for some time as well. At its worst Hugo couldn’t seem to go a sentence without entering a fit of coughing and at best he could make it a few hours without having any outbursts. He was also feeling less energetic than he usually was. He was very tired and slow for most of the day, not even going outside in the back yard could pep him up. There was one particular incident where he had nearly collapsed during one of his nature walks with Enoch who had to carry him back to his hut.

His mother did all she could for him but it wasn’t like any other time he had felt sick. He wasn’t warm, and he was eating enough. She didn’t understand what was happening to him. She called the village doctor to come inspect him one afternoon but his results were inconclusive as well. He suggested that Hugo be taken to the hospital in the nearby city for a more thorough examination. His mother would do it in a heartbeat if she could but money had grown tight in their household. Between groceries and medicine for Hugo and for regular house payments she had become increasingly overwhelmed with the fear of debt looming over her like a dark cloud. Her husband would be no help in the state he was in. He spent most of his paychecks at the local pub and hadn’t lifted a finger to help with the bills in a long time. She had tried many times to convince him to start helping her again but each attempt proved more fruitless than the next. Enoch and Mr. Dedan had offered any help they could but she couldn’t accept either proposals. It was her responsibility and she wasn’t going to use someone else’s hard earned money to make her life a little easier.

Hugo wished he could make himself get better. He wished his mother didn’t have to worry about him so much. He wished his father wouldn’t leave home so often. He wished for many things that never seemed to come true. For the first time in his life he felt alone. No one knew what was wrong with him and his mother and friends didn’t know what to do for him. Often at night he would think really hard about Japhet and the building he had taken him to in the hopes that he could see him again and he might tell him what to do, but the dream never came again. What was going on? What was happening to him? Why was no one coming to help?

Hugo was awoken late one night by the sound of a crash from the living room. He could hear voices yelling at each other through the walls. His father had come home. Hugo had heard many of these arguments before and had learned to block them out and get back to sleep but they were being incredibly louder tonight than they had ever been before. And they made no signs of stopping anytime soon. They continued yelling, for about ten minutes neither person relented and continued to scream at each other. Hugo knew he shouldn’t, but he got out of bed and made his way to the door. He reached for the door handle and tried his hardest to open it. Finally, stepping almost on the very tip of his toes, he got a good hold of the handle and pulled the door open.

He was silent as he crept down the hallway. His parents’ voices were so loud he could hear them from all the way in the very back of the hallway near his room but he felt compelled to draw closer to them. He didn’t know why; all he did was follow his feet and the screams.

“Why do you think I’m out all the time,” the voices became clearer, “you think I like coming home to be nagged by you?!”

“You’re drunk, again!” His mother yelled. She was standing in front of the television while his father was slumped on the couch.

“Yeah, I’m drunk!” He retorted, “It’s the only way I can clear my head whenever I’m in this Goddamn house. All I want when I come home from a long day is a little respect and empathy from the woman who told me she would as part of her fuckin’ vows.”

“Don’t you throw that at me,” her face was fuming and black markings were running down from her eyes. “You’ve been off getting drunk for the past month and haven’t lifted a finger to help me or our son! He’s getting sick, you know that? I’ve spent nearly a fortune trying to get the doctor out here to look at him and getting medicine and you’ve been shitting away all our money down a liquor bottle!” His father scoffed.

“It’s always something with that boy isn’t it? First he sneaks out to go kill our neighbor, he has us bring in that fuckin’ bird that won’t shut the hell up, lies to you to go get some lardass to break into the house and heal that fuckin’ bird, real smart of you by the way lettin’ him stay on his own, real genius work.” His mother had heard this many times before in their arguments and couldn’t stand it.

“You need to get your shit together!” She brought her face close to his. “If you’re going to spend the rest of your life at the bottom of a bottle then you can forget about coming home at all!” His father jumped up from the couch and stood up to his full height.

“And what if I do?! What if I just walked out of here right now and never came back, huh? What would you fuckin’ do about it?!” His mother wasn’t shaken.

“Tell you not to let the door hit your ass on the way out.” Hugo’s father stuttered. He was at a loss of words and that only made him angrier. Just as it looked like they were preparing for another wave, they were interrupted by a loud cough from the hallway.

Hugo had tried to suppress any thoughts of coughing ever since he woke up but they were far too impulsive to be controlled. His parents were both shocked to see their son standing timidly before them. His mother immediately dropped all signs of anger and went to him asking why he was up, while his father remained in his temper.

“And now we can add ‘spy’ to the list.” He said repugnantly.

“Don’t!” His mother said to him with a sharp look in her eye. She turned to Hugo. “Go back to bed honey, we’re sorry we woke you.” Hugo stared at her and then his father.

“You’re fighting again.” He said quietly.

“No sweetie, we’re just having a little disagreement. Please go back to bed and-”

“Let him stay up,” his father interrupted, “let him hear what we have to say. He’s a good damn reason why we’re here to begin with.”

“SHUT UP!” She stood up and marched over to him. “Don’t you dare bring him into this!”

“He’s already in it!” His father yelled. “The kid’s been nothing but trouble ever since we moved out to this shithole. You’ve been coddling him for too long, it’s time he owned up for his fuck ups!”

“Stop…” Hugo whispered.

“What right do you have to tell anyone to ‘own up’ to anything?!” His mother said. “Ignoring all your problems in a bar and blaming your own failures on your own son! You’re so drunk all the time you don’t even know his first name anymore!”

“I SAID STOP!” Hugo’s scream shook the house. His parents stood still as they watched their son. He was breathing heavily and tears were falling down his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He cried. “I knew this was my fault.”

A sharp pain awoke in Hugo’s head. It started dull but grew more and more painful with each passing second. Hugo put his hands on his skull and dug his fingernails into his hair. He screamed. Louder than his previous scream. His mother was quick to his side again, calling his name frantically. Hugo tried to respond, to say he understood her but he couldn’t talk. He became dizzy and the room began to spin around him. His father tried to reach out to him too, shaking him violently to no avail. Hugo’s consciousness blurred and all visions and sounds became jumbled until they disappeared all together. And then there was nothing.

 

He could hear something in the distance. Something familiar yet… foreign. He looked at his surroundings. He was alone. Alone on what looked like an island. But it wasn’t an island. There was a building off to the distance. A tall yellow building with two ladders leading to different levels. A sea of white isolated him from anywhere else. He walked forward.

The distant sound brought a thirst to his dry mouth. He needed something to drink. He bent down and touched the white that surrounded him and the yellow building but could not bring the liquid to his lips. It passed through his hands and was incomprehensible to the touch. He wondered if it was really there to begin with.

Something was coming down the path leading away from the building. He stood, and waited for the tiny thing to approach him. It stopped just a few feet before him.

_There cannot be any other living beings inside zone 0, so I must assume that you are only a mere figment of my imagination._

He was confused. Who was this creature? Where did it come from? Was it the only one here besides him? The creature continued by introducing itself and posing an introduction on him.

_I am aching to know your name, dear elusory interlocutor._

He gave the creature his name.

_It is a pleasure. However, it is not the puppet I was addressing, but the puppeteer controlling it. What is your name, dear puppeteer?_

Puppeteer? What was it talking about? There was no one else here besides the two of them. The creature grinned as it waited for a response. Its teeth were many and looked quite sharp. After a few moments of silence it appeared that the creature had grown tired of waiting.

_Even though you too are but an inexistent apparition in my eyes, let it be said that I am delighted to meet you as well..._

The creature was no longer looking at him. He was staring directly into his eyes but he could tell it wasn’t him that he was addressing. There was someone else. Someone beyond the sight of either him or the creature. Yet still it seemed to be aware of its presence and spoke directly to it.

Then the creature gave it a name.

_Dear, Hugo…_


	6. The Merchant

Hugo didn’t wake up again for the rest of the evening. As soon as he passed out his mother and father got him in the car and drove for the hospital in the city. His father insisted on driving at first but conceded to his wife when he remembered how drunk he was. He stayed in the back seat with Hugo while his wife drove as fast as she could down the dark road. She almost drove clear off it when she over steered on a few turns but neither of them cared about traffic laws at the moment. His mother angrily wiped tears from her eyes to keep her vision as clear as she could while his father cradled his head in his lap. The things he had said to Hugo, to his wife…

They got to the city in almost record time and finally to the hospital. The rest was a blur to both of them. They had gotten their son into emergency care and waited patiently outside the door the doctors examined him in. The head doctor explained that Hugo had had a cerebral aneurysm that led to a stroke. His parents were rightfully shocked to their core at this news but the doctor assured them that they were able to treat it before it became truly serious. However, Hugo would have to remain at the hospital for some time for recovery and for more examination as they believed there was something else going on within him. Something that had been building up for quite a long time.

His parents stayed at the hospital that night in their son’s room. They didn’t speak to each other but they had a mutual unspoken understanding that what had happened between them earlier didn’t matter right now. The only thing that did was their son. His father paced the room for some time, trying to rationalize everything that had happened. His mother sat in a chair at Hugo’s bedside and didn’t take her eyes off of him for a moment.

By this time the sun had begun to rise and a blue haze surrounded the curtains of the outside window. Hugo remained still in the bed. His mother stroked his hand in hers. His father had finally stopped pacing and was now sitting in a chair at the corner. He hated this. He hated seeing his son unresponsive and his wife helpless and scared. But who was there to blame? No one except… he would make this right. Somehow, someway… he would make this right.

Eventually Hugo did wake up. Around 3:00 P.M. the next day. His mother showered him with kisses and hugged him so tightly he felt his head would pop right off of his neck. His father lingered in the corner by the chair he was sitting in. Concerned, but not knowing how to face his son after the events of last night. The nurse came in shortly after and informed the head doctor who was just as relieved as his parents. He laughed a mysterious laugh as he talked to Hugo.

“I could see you were a tough little one from the moment your parents brought you here.” The doctor’s voice was kind enough but Hugo felt slightly uneasy around him. Probably because he wore a white mask on his face that covered everything but his eyes and hair. He spoke more to his parents than he did to Hugo. They talked about moving him to another room, visiting hours and future payment and what they planned to do for him to make his stay as comfortable as possible. His parents were quick to point out that Hugo was not one for remaining in one place for too long and the doctor assured them that they had a children’s playroom that he could take him to whenever possible.

His parents left him reluctantly soon afterwards, promising him that they would come back as soon as they could and that he would be fine. Hugo had never been left alone in a strange place without his parents before and protested he wanted them to stay but they kept saying they couldn’t.

“We have jobs we need to go to, to pay for helping you and getting you the best treatment you can get.” His mother told him. “Do you understand?” He didn’t. He wanted his mother to stay with him. He didn’t want to be alone here. But as much as he wanted them to stay, eventually he gave in and resigned to their leaving. The first night alone had been the worst. Hugo had been given medication by the doctors that made him drowsy but he had a nightmare that woke him up and kept him awake for the rest of the night. He cried out for his parents, for anyone to hear and come help him but no one came. The dark room around him scared him like nothing had scared him before. Where were his parents? Where was Mr. Dedan or Enoch or even Japhet? Where was anybody?

Hugo did not get a good night’s sleep until after a week spent at the hospital. He was looked after with the utmost of care and adoration by many of the hospital staff and he had grown to like many of them but he could never feel too comfortable in this pale room or building. There was never any color to anything or any noise outside the monotone chatter of doctors and nurses and the distant coughing of other patients. Even if he would have to spend the rest of his life here, Hugo decided, he would never get used to it. He belonged back home, back in the countryside. In the little house overlooking Mr. Dedan’s farm and the road that lead to Enoch’s house and the fair and the village. And how Japhet must be missing him by now. He hoped his parents were remembering to look after him. At least his mother would.

His thoughts were interrupted when a young nurse walked into his room. He recognized this nurse but had never really talked to her before. She had a pretty face and messy white hair.

“Good morning Hugo.” She said cheerfully. Her voice was very youthful. Hugo wondered how old she could be (but he never asked as his mother told him the rudest thing you could ask a lady was what age she was). “Good morning.” He returned monotonously. “And how are we feeling?” She smiled down at him. “Okay.” He answered. She nodded pleasantly and wrote something on her clipboard. “The head honcho wants to thank you for being so patient and wanted me to tell you that you-”

“What’s a ‘honcho?’” Hugo interrupted. The nurse was slightly taken aback at this.

“Oh. It’s just another term for boss or leader.” She explained.

“Well why didn’t you say that then?” Hugo asked. She stared at him with a strange expression on her face. Normally Hugo wouldn’t be this abrasive with his questions but he had grown quite crabby stuck in this bed for the past week and was tired of being told he would be allowed to walk about “soon.”

“Anyway,” she continued, “he wants to thank you for being so patient this past week and sent me to personally take you to the children’s playroom.” Hugo’s sour mood left him like an evil spirit that had just been exorcised and he shot up in his bed.

“YOU ARE?!” He shouted excitedly and began bouncing on his bed. The nurse looked worried.

“Yes, yes, I am just, please, calm down Hugo you can’t over exert yourself.” She laughed as she held him still. Hugo could hardly contain his excitement and was still fidgeting in her grip, anxious to get out of this stuffy room. The nurse finished filling out her clipboard then helped Hugo down from the bed. The first thing he did when he was free of that bed was stretch out his aching body. It had been too long since he had set foot on the ground.

“Nice to give your legs a little stretch, huh?” Hugo agreed as he let out a long yawn. He then took the nurse’s hand and they walked out of his room and down the hospital hallway.

Hugo had never seen the hospital outside his room before and it was much larger than he had thought it was going to be. There were several different hallways going in many directions, a lot of rooms spread out on each side of them with many other patients older than him. The only thing he was right about was that the rest of the hospital was just as pale as his room was. Plain grey and white colors around every corner on every wall. Why was this place so boring? Surely people didn’t like looking at boring colors all day long. He was about to put this question to the nurse when he noticed something about her.

“Your nametag.” he stated. She looked at him and then the nametag.

“What about it?” She asked.

“It says ‘Sugar.’”

“Yep,” she said as they turned a corner, “that’s my name. Kind of silly isn’t it?” Hugo disagreed.

“I like it.” He said earnestly. He smacked his lips and added, “I love sugar.” The nurse laughed.

“Who doesn’t?” They passed a patient being rolled down the hallway in a gurney. Hugo watched it as it went around the corner they just came from but Sugar didn’t seem to notice it and continued. “If I could have one thing in this life, it would be a huge vault filled with a lifetime supply of sugar.” She seemed lost in her own world as she lustfully added, “And I’d swim in that vault every day like a duck and let the sugar get in my ears and nose and-”

“My friend Enoch said you shouldn’t eat sugar all the time.” Hugo said. “It could make you sick.” Sugar’s illusion was shattered and she regained her serious composure.

“He’s right,” she agreed, but then added facetiously, “good thing I already work at a hospital.” She chuckled at herself and Hugo laughed as well. He had never met an adult like her before. She had an air of seriousness to her but was still very random and laid back. She was definitely the most fun person he had met in the hospital and he wished all the adults here could be just like her. But then, he thought, that would probably undermine what made her so unique in a place like this.

The children’s ward of the hospital was undergoing repairs at the time of Hugo’s stay and the walls were being repainted. It had the look of an area that was once vibrant with brightness but at the moment was just as colorless and lifeless as the rest of the hospital. All except for one room; the children’s playroom. A fairly large rectangular space with paintings of many animals on the walls and many different toys to play with. Hugo was spellbound immediately. He rushed for the toys and began digging through the little bins for anything that looked the most exciting. Sugar smiled as she watched him. It was the first time she had seen him so happy all week. She would have liked to spend the whole day with him but she had other work to do.

“Where are all the other boys and girls?” Hugo asked.

“There aren’t that many in the hospital right now besides you, if you can believe it.” Sugar said as she nervously kept checking the clock on the wall. Hugo sighed and played less heartily with the toys he had collected from the bin, a plastic doll and a plush whale. Sugar continued.

“The ‘boss,’” she winked at Hugo, “should be here in a few minutes though.” Hugo looked at her nonplussed.

“Why?” He asked her.

“Just to check up on you. Ask how you’re doing and all that.”

“But I’m fine.” Hugo said defensively. She laughed gently.

“You don’t have to tell _me_ twice. But it’s a routine inspection thing he does for all his patients.” Hugo still didn’t like the idea of it. He wasn’t sure how he felt about his doctor ever since the first time they met and he hadn’t seen him much at all since then. Hugo assumed the best of everyone normally but the doctor was far more ambiguous than most people he had met. He wondered for a few minutes what he would ask him but became lost in his own scenario between the doll and the whale. It seemed like hardly any time at all had passed before the doctor appeared.

“Bless my soul,” the doctor said in an amazed tone, “look who’s up and about.” He laughed the same laugh Hugo had heard a week ago. Hugo barely looked up from his toys. He was determined to finish his adventure with them before doing anything else. He did notice, however, that he was not wearing the mask that hid his face this time.

The doctor thanked Sugar and told her she could return to her work. She and Hugo exchanged a pleasant ‘goodbye’ and she left them to their talk. But not before gently sliding her hand against the doctor’s as she walked out of the room and giving him a slow, meaningful wink before she turned into the hall and out of sight. The doctor was slightly flustered and was visibly blushing but he composed himself quickly and kneeled down on the floor mat next to Hugo.

“How have you been feeling, Hugo?” He asked. Hugo did not hear his question and instead shoved the whale plush into his arms.

“You be the bad guy!” He stated excitedly. Even if he hadn’t made up his mind about the doctor yet he wasn’t going to pass up a playmate.

The doctor looked at the whale in bewilderment. “But, why is it the bad guy?” Hugo looked at him annoyingly.

“Because it’s a whale.” He said bluntly. The doctor shrugged to himself. One didn’t need a better explanation than that.

The doctor played along with Hugo’s fantasy. Apparently he was a very vindictive whale that was coming to attack the doll Hugo was holding and destroy everything he loved before finally eating him. When he asked Hugo what the motivation behind this was, Hugo repeated the obvious; “It’s a whale.”

The doctor asked him plenty of questions while they played, alternating between his voice and the one he had made up for the whale at first but stopped when it proved too confusing for Hugo. Most of these questions were asking Hugo if he remembered his name, his parent’s names, his home phone number, obvious questions that Hugo found increasingly irritating. All he wanted to do was to defeat the evil whale terrorizing his family, he didn’t want to play a boring game of ‘20 questions.’ One question the doctor asked stumped him though.

“Can you tell me what my name is?” Hugo sat in contemplative silence for a few moments. What was this doctor’s name? He tried to cheat and look for a nametag like Sugar had but he wasn’t wearing one. He didn’t think he had ever heard his name before. Certainly the other doctors or even his mother when she visited must have addressed him by name, but he couldn’t think of it. The doctor waited patiently, whale still in hand, and Hugo finally gave up and took a stab in the dark.

“…Doctor?” he answered slowly. The doctor laughed again. Much more friendlier this time, or so it seemed.

“It’s okay, I didn’t expect you to know that one.” Hugo frowned. Then why did he bother asking it? “We haven’t really spoken to each other ever since you came here have we?” Hugo shook his head. The doctor extended his hand to shake Hugo’s. Hugo met him halfway and took the hand. “I never much liked being called ‘doctor’ by anybody,” he admitted, “so you can just call me Zacharie.”

Hugo was beginning to warm up to Zacharie the more they talked. Hugo told him about his house on the hill and of Japhet and his two best friends the Tall Mister and Enoch. Zacharie asked if he had any friends his age to which Hugo said no, but that he hoped he would make some when he eventually went to school. They also talked about the village a few miles away from his house.

“I grew up there you know,” Zacharie told him, “used to work as a delivery boy most summers. Getting random trinkets and messages to people around the countryside. Traversing there and back on my bicycle with nothing but the wind as my company. I knew those hills like the back of my own hand.” He said wistfully.

“What made you want to be a doctor?” Hugo asked. Zacharie was surprised at this question. No one had really asked him about what sparked his interest in his career before. He gladly answered the curious child’s question;

“One Summer, when I was making one of my delivery runs near the old railroad a few miles out of town I heard something unusual. It sounded like a wounded animal. If it were any other day I probably would have thought nothing of it and continued along my route but something in me said I needed to investigate further.” Hugo listened intently. Placing the doll he had been playing with on his lap and giving Zacharie his undivided attention.

“I walked along the railroad for some time following my ears and listening for the moaning that was growing louder and louder with every step I took. Suddenly I found the source of the sounds. A man was lying on the ground, partly obscured by the taller grass and gravely injured. He kept moaning as best as he could, ‘help,’ and when he saw me he tried to crawl to me but he was too weak to even lift himself off the ground.”

“What happened to him?” Hugo asked.

“No idea,” Zacharie said, “he was badly beat up. It could have been he was attacked by some wild animals in the nearby woods or he had been the victim of some prior violence. Either way I ran up to him, at a loss, and gave him my water to drink. I stayed with him for a few minutes, looking around in every direction calling out for help, but no one came. I decided eventually that I would have to go and seek help myself and told the man I had to leave him but that I would be back with help. I left him my backpack as an assurance that I would return and pedaled my bike as fast as I could to the nearest house. I told the people inside of the injured man and they telephoned an ambulance and went with me to where he was.

“We all waited together until the ambulance came. When they did the men inside it hardly said anything to us, only asking how long he had been like this, when we had found him, and then talking to themselves in terms and words I didn’t understand. I watched them put the injured man in the gurney, into the car and back down the road towards the city. Everyone else who had come with me from that house left but I stayed behind. Watching that spot where he had been clinging on for dear life. It made me feel powerless that I couldn’t help him in any way.

“I realized then what I wanted to do… I wanted to help people like him. I wanted to learn how I could make people’s lives a little easier, to heal people. After that day, I couldn’t be just another bystander. So I started studying up all I could on medicine, went to a university for a medical degree and the rest as they say is history.”

Hugo deeply sympathized with Zacharie’s story. He couldn’t stand watching people get hurt and not being able to do anything about it either. When he grew up he wanted to do something about it like Zacharie did. He didn’t know if this meant becoming a doctor or pursuing some other career as of yet, but all he knew was that what he wanted to do the most was to help purify the world. To make it a better place.

He began coughing violently again. For awhile he had almost forgotten about that.

“Still got that cough, huh?” Zacharie asked tilting his head. Hugo was about to answer when for some reason his gaze fell upon the doll on his lap. He hadn’t noticed it before but the doll had an expressionless face to it, with its black eyes staring endlessly at his. It was slightly unnerving and at the same time…

“It looks so sad.” Hugo said out loud. Zacharie looked at the doll.

“You think so?” Hugo had only now just seemed to realize how blank the doll really was. It had no colorful outfit or even any emotion in its face. It looked lost.

“What does it even do?” He asked rhetorically.

“Oh, lots of things.” Zacharie said. He excused himself for a moment and began looking through the bins with all the toys, muttering to himself. He came back to Hugo with several hats and other accessories in his arms, laying them out on the floor. “May I see it?” He asked for the doll. Hugo handed it to him. Zacharie began placing several little hats on the doll and explaining what they meant;

“He can be a miner, or a factory worker, there’s also this little tie you can put on him to make him fancy for when he goes to board meetings or-”

“He doesn’t look happy though.” Hugo said. Zacharie looked down at the doll again and had to concur, it did have a depressing look to it. “Do you think it’s because he’s sick too?” Hugo asked him.

“I… don’t know Hugo.” Zacharie said, still looking at the doll. “Possibly.” Hugo looked at the doll in Zacharie’s hands. Suddenly the doll reminded him of the many different patients he had seen on his way here with Sugar. Each of them had the same dull expressionless face and no hope in their eyes. The only people who had had a spark to them were the doctors and nurses that wandered the halls. People like Sugar and Zacharie who dedicated themselves to helping them. To bringing a little color back to their lives even in these blank hallways. All at once Hugo’s opinion of Zacharie had officially been made.

“Thank you Zacharie.” He said. Zacharie was puzzled.

“For what?”

“For helping people.” Hugo answered sincerely. Zacharie smiled at the Hugo’s words. He was not like most boys his age, of this there was no doubt.

Zacharie walked Hugo around the hospital a little more to make up for the time spent on his bed and asked if he would like to take a little detour up to his office. Hugo agreed ecstatically. Anything that meant he could spend a little more time out of his room was good enough for him. Zacharie’s office was on the higher floors of the hospital and they had to take an elevator to reach it. Hugo had never been in an elevator before. The building his father worked in before they moved had had an elevator but they never had to use it as he worked on the ground level. He was a little nervous when they entered the small elevator compartment and slightly more nervous when they began moving. Zacharie sensed his nervousness and showed him a fun trick to ease his mind; right when the elevator stopped at their floor he and Hugo jumped in place. For some reason this little jump was one of the most thrilling things Hugo had ever experienced and he asked Zacharie if they could do it again. “Maybe on the way back down,” he said.

Zacharie’s office was a fairly small room, no bigger than Hugo’s, and had a little desk near the window with two chairs facing it and one larger chair behind the desk. Several plaques hung on the walls and there was a small bookshelf under those with magazines and pamphlets. On the messy desk was an assortment of paperwork yet to be organized and a few pictures. While Zacharie searched the contents of his drawers Hugo had a look at these pictures. Almost all of them were of Zacharie posing with someone. One had him in a strange black dress robe with a rectangular cap shaking the hand of someone important looking and receiving a rolled up piece of paper. Another was him and Sugar in front of some mountains. It looked like they were pretty good friends outside of work as they were hugging very closely in the picture. Another picture wasn’t of Zacharie at all. Instead there were two white cats sitting on a couch. One of them had its paws all over the littler one’s face while the little one had an annoyed expression on its face.

“Are these your cats?” Hugo asked. Zacharie looked up from his search and proudly said yes.

“They’re brothers.” He said returning to his search. “The smaller one with the priceless look on his face is ironically the older one, Pablo. And the bigger one invading his big brother’s personal bubble is Valerie.”

“Valerie?” Hugo said in an almost offended tone of voice. “But that’s a _girl’s_ name!”

“Not true, not true.” Zacharie said in point of fact. “It can, and has, been used as a boy’s name plenty of times. Why there was once a president with that name; Valéry Giscard d’Estaing.” Zacharie did not give his cat this name in some attempt to honor that president, he really didn’t like that man from what he read of him, but he thought the name was quite pretty (and he personally got a huge kick explaining the meaning of the name whenever people asked him about it).

The two of them returned to Hugo’s room shortly after. Hugo was a little upset that he had to get back into his bed but his disappointment was slightly lessened when he found a tray of food on his bedside desk. Zacharie helped him up on the bed and put the tray of food on his lap. Before he left Hugo had one last question to ask him.

“Will I ever get to go home?” Zacharie hesitated.

“I’m pretty sure you will Hugo.” He said with a slight edge of uncertainty. “We just need to run a few more tests on you and you’ll be right as rain.” Hugo had been tutored enough to learn not to like the sound of “tests.”

“What kind of tests?” He asked, fearing the worst.

“Just a few blood tests and a bone marrow test.” Zacharie said writing something in his notebook. Hugo _really_ didn’t like the sound of that.

“Will it hurt?” He asked timidly.

“Not at all,” he said but then corrected himself, “well, not too much anyway.” He immediately regretted saying this as he heard Hugo’s gasp of horror. “I mean, it will sting for just a second but it won’t be too long or painful at all. It’s just a quick prick of a needle to get a blood sample and then nothing more. I promise it won’t hurt you.” Hugo was relieved to hear this and sat back in his bed. Zacharie bid him a good afternoon and a good lunch and went back to work. Hugo ate his meal in solitude but he did not feel as lonely as he had earlier in the morning. His long meeting with Zacharie had given him a brighter outlook on his stay here. Even though he would very much like to return home soon, he no longer dreaded every passing hour of the day. He had new friends that would watch over him while he got better. And he felt confident that he would in no time at all.

Hugo’s confidence was deterred in the next few weeks. The tests he had taken did not end up good, even though he remembered once he heard Zacharie telling his mother that he was “positive” for something. He thought, at first, that this meant he was going home soon but he was proven wrong when he heard his mother burst into tears in the hallway. Why was she crying? ‘Positive’ meant ‘good’ didn’t it? He could go home now… couldn’t he?

Neither question was answered for him by his mother or anyone at the hospital but Hugo concluded from the way his mother looked at him whenever she visited and the way the doctors and nurses talked about him that each was a resounding “no.”

His heart sank further when he was told that he wouldn’t be allowed to leave his bed quite as often anymore as he had to be strapped to a chord attached to a machine that would fight off the damaging cells in his body. Hugo didn’t know what “cells” were but they didn’t sound good at all so he was glad to have something get rid of them for him. He was also given pills to help stem his cough that was becoming more frequent and violent as the days went on. The pills left a nasty chalky taste in his mouth and he was told he couldn’t eat for a few hours after taking them which annoyed him.

His mother visited him every day she could, gently talking to him about his condition and what the doctors were doing for him. She looked worse than Hugo did. Her eyes were red and baggy from exhaustion and it looked like she had hardly eaten anything for days. Hugo hated to admit it but he almost wished his mother was getting sick too so that she could stay at the hospital with him. But she didn’t get sick, despite her appearance, and would never stay with him as long as he, or she, wanted to.

Hugo was also visited by Mr. Dedan and Enoch. They had surprised him one day while he was lost in his own thoughts about home and Hugo could hardly contain his enthusiasm when he saw his two friends in his doorway. Enoch had brought him a piece of a sugar cube that Hugo was eager to eat but saved it for later, and Mr. Dedan had surprised him even more by sneaking in Japhet under his trench coat. The bird was secured in a smaller cage, as there was no way he could sneak in the other one, and began chirping wildly when he saw Hugo. Enoch silenced him quickly by feeding him a handful of birdseed from a container he got from, where else, his pocket. Hugo was so happy to see his friends that he had almost failed to notice one major difference to the small bird.

“His wing’s better!” It was true. Japhet was hovering in the cage with both his wings extended proudly.

“I agreed to look after him a few days after your parents took you here.” Enoch said. “It was the strangest thing, the day I found out his wing was healed was because the moment I had opened it to change out his toilet paper and refill his water he flew right out of the cage and straight out the window!” Hugo gasped at this and Enoch went on. “I called out to him as best as I could telling him to please come back as you would miss him dearly but he wouldn’t listen. I had lost sight of him and for all I knew he was long gone, off to rejoin his flock or head south for the winter.

“But after a few hours and after I had grown so upset on how I was going to tell you that your bird had flown away, I heard a familiar chirp from behind me. And there he was! Sitting on the window sill looking at me. I approached him carefully but he made no sign of retreat and let me pick him up and put him back in his cage without any fuss at all.” Hugo smiled at Japhet who had settled down in his smaller cage and was now preening his feathers. “You must have domesticated him.” Enoch chuckled.

“Or maybe he just didn’t want to leave his friend behind.” Mr. Dedan grinned at Hugo. There was a glassy look in his eye and Hugo could swear that he almost saw a tear beginning to drip from it. But no, it must have been a trick of the light. The Tall Mister was the last person Hugo expected to cry.

“You get well soon young man, you hear me?” He said to Hugo. Hugo nodded his head affirmatively. “We’ve all been missing you. Even my cow.” Mr. Dedan chuckled.

They were shooed out of the room by a nurse shortly afterwards (Mr. Dedan had just managed to hide Japhet back in his coat before he was discovered). They promised they would be back soon with more gifts and they would try to sneak Japhet in as well if they could. Enoch even teased that once he got well he would bake him the most marvelous cake he had ever created. If there wasn’t enough incentive for him to get well before, this was definitely a good reason.

By and by though, Hugo began to get fewer visits from his mother or his friends. His mother visited him practically every day and he was very distraught the first time she didn’t show up at all. There were many days where no one would come to visit him at all. Hugo began to feel lonely again. As lonely as when he first came here. There was always Sugar or Zacharie or any of the other nurses and doctors to check up on him but as much as he enjoyed their company it wasn’t the same as seeing his mother or the Tall Mister or Enoch. He wished he was allowed to keep Japhet in here with him at least, just so he could have someone to talk to. Someone who wasn’t too busy to listen. He hated to be so alone.

One day one of the nurses finally informed him that he had a visitor. Hugo sat up in his bed and was anxious to see who it was. He hoped very much to see his mother walk through the doors and she would hug him and talk to him like she used to. He was very surprised to find that instead of his mother or even any of his friends, it was his father standing timidly behind the nurse.

Hugo’s joyous expression on his face withered slightly. He had not seen his father for a very long time. Not since the night when all this had began. He didn’t know if his father was still mad at him, if he was still fighting with his mother. The nurse left them alone and his father sat in the chair by his bedside. He was holding something behind his back.

Neither of them talked at first. They stared at each other not knowing how to even begin. Eventually his father cleared his throat and spoke first.

“Hello Hugo.”

“Hello.” Hugo responded. Hugo was cautious with his words. He didn’t want to trigger any angry emotions in his father.

“I… brought you a comic.” He presented the comic from behind his back and put it on the desk by the bed.

“Thank you.” He seemed to be calmer than when he last saw him, Hugo thought. Still he couldn’t be sure. His father could switch moods at the mere drop of a hat.

But his father didn’t switch moods. He barely even spoke above a whisper the entire time he was there. He asked how the doctors were treating him and how he was feeling. Hugo was still wary but he told his father everything he could.

“My hair fell out.” He said sadly. His father asked him if he knew why that happened. “They said the chemicals in the bag made you lose your hair.”

“That’s right.” His father said quietly. He smiled meekly and patted his son’s bald head. “Still just as smart as ever.”

The small digital clock on the desk buzzed. It was time for him to take his pills.

“I don’t like those pills,” He confessed to his father, “they taste horrible.”

“But they’ll make you better won’t they?” His father asked. Hugo said that was what Zacharie told him. “So you have to take them, even if they’re horrible. Just a quick gulp with some water and it’ll all be fine.”

“I know papa.” Hugo said solemnly. His father opened the container and shook one pill into his hand. Hugo took his glass of water in one hand and received the pill from his father in the other. A quick pop in his mouth and a long sip from his glass forced the pill down his throat, leaving only that terrible chalky aftertaste. Hugo stuck his tongue out of his mouth in disgust which made his father laugh. It had been a long time since he heard his papa laugh. He didn’t know how much he had missed it.

They talked a little while more but then they began to play made up scenarios that came to Hugo’s mind involving witches and dragons and other horrible beasts that his father swore to protect him from and knock their heads clean off of their necks. It was almost as if Hugo had never left home at all and the events of that awful night had never come to pass.

They had both lost track of the time and only remembered it when the nurse from before came in to tell them that visiting hours were over. Hugo asked his father if he or his mother would come back to see him tomorrow. His father looked reluctant to talk about his mother.

“Your mother is working extra shifts at her job, Hugo. To help raise more money to pay for your treatments. And I’ve taken extra shifts too. I only came today because the manager told me I needed to take a break.” Hugo was discouraged once again. His father swore to him that he and his mother would come back to him as quickly as they could. Hugo wanted to believe him, but something inside him told him that he would be alone again for a very long time.

Just as he was about to leave his father snapped his fingers and went back to Hugo’s bedside.

“I almost forgot.” he said pulling out a little white box from his pocket. “Your mother wanted you to have this.” He placed it gently on the desk next to the comic. “It’s the music box she would play for you when you were a baby. She said it might help you sleep.” Hugo didn’t remember any music box but when he wound the gear and opened the box he was instantly reminded of the heavenly sound that would sound him to sleep on the worst of nights with the loudest of storms. It was a simple xylophone, with a repeating beat that varied slightly as it played. Hugo thanked his father and waved him goodbye as he left.

Hugo no longer feared the darkness of his room at night when he was alone. The music box’s melody ensured that he had a peaceful time getting to sleep. Hugo really loved sleep. He remembered a time when he refused to take naps and didn’t like to be put to bed at a certain time of night. How foolish he had been back then. With all the tests and pills and the never ending coughing, Hugo was at his most relaxed when he was sound asleep in his hospital bed. There were some days, he found, that he almost wished he could stay asleep. To roam about his dreams and shape the world in any way he wanted. But he knew he could never do this. He would miss his parents and friends too much. Even though it was enticing he wouldn’t want to remain asleep. There was still so much he wanted to see and do. Sleep could wait.

 

_I don’t like this place a lot. Luckily, Papa is here._

_Today we played together. He offered me a comic._

_He told me that I was ill, so I had to take these pills…_

_I don’t like these pills. Papa said we’re going outside to play tomorrow._

_Papa gave me a music box today…_

_But I want to go out and play._

_I hate this place._

_I’m sure mom will pick me up._

_Please come back soon…_


	7. The Room

Zacharie was reviewing his notes in his office. How long had it been since Hugo was admitted here? Several months, or so the calendar said. It only felt like yesterday when he brought him up here and had explained how the name ‘Valerie’ could be gender neutral. From his notes he found out that his birthday was only a few weeks away. He would be four.

For awhile it looked like he was going to pull through. That any day he’d wake up and be back to his usual self. But it had only gotten worse as the weeks went on. His brain was gradually shutting itself down and it would keep going until eventually…

It was highly unprofessional to get too attached to one’s patient, he knew that. But if any doctor had met Hugo he would bet all his life savings and his very career that they wouldn’t be able to spend thirty minutes in the same room as him and not get even slightly attached to him. The boy was contagious in and of himself. His enthusiasm was unrivaled and his creativity was so enormous there couldn’t possibly be any limit to it.

Why did it have to be this way? Why did it have to be him?

 

Zacharie had been looking forward to this. It was the day of his weekly checkup on Hugo’s progress. He wouldn’t be the first to admit it but that boy was slowly becoming his favorite patient in the whole hospital. Maybe even his entire career thus far. He had loved having conversations with the boy, to hear what strange new fantasies popped into his head and what new characters he would have him pose as. Sometimes it would be something as simple as a frog, and other times it would be something as unique as a three headed man with one head being mean, the other being nice, and the last being a stuffy British salesperson.

Zacharie walked with an extra pep in his step as he arrived on Hugo’s floor. Cracking his neck and elbows in preparation for any imagination that required something more physically demanding of him (which was quite often the case). His good mood only increased when he saw the familiar door and opened it entering the familiar room.

He was surprised to find that Hugo was still asleep in his bed. He was usually well awake and very fidgety at this hour.

“Hugo,” he called softly, “it’s time to get up.” He walked over to the blinds and pulled them open, letting in the sun. “It’s a beautiful day out. I was hoping it would be, it’s been so cloudy for so long I almost thought it w-” He stopped when he noticed that Hugo hadn’t stirred. He was being incredibly stubborn today, Zacharie joked.

He put his hand on Hugo’s chest and shook him gently. “Hugo,” He said again, “wake up.” Still no response. Zacharie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Hugo?” He shook him less gently this time. Not even a stir. “Hugo!” He said louder and shook his chest very roughly. “HUGO!” He practically screamed it into his ear. No matter how hard he screamed or shook, Hugo refused to wake up. He was still breathing, but he just wouldn’t move.

One of the nurses had come in the room and asked him what was wrong.

“Get a gurney!” He cried, “We need to get him to the emergency ward, NOW!” The nurse complied while Zacharie remained in the room, trying desperately to wake the boy up. He forced one of his eyelids open and was greeted with a blank stare. He had gone into a catatonic state somehow. One that he wasn’t coming out of very easily. The gurney arrived shortly after, pulled by Sugar and three other nurses. Zacharie carefully lifted him from the bed and placed him securely on the gurney.

“What’s going on,” Sugar asked him, “What happened to him?!” Zacharie had no time to explain. He led the way down to the emergency ward and got every doctor not already looking after another patient to help him do a full examination of Hugo. It was happening again. It was the same as when he first arrived. Only this time it was worse. Much worse.

 

Zacharie remembered that day more vividly than he would have liked to. After a thorough examination they had found that Hugo had had another stroke during the night. And this time it had been a very bad one that triggered a comatose reaction. He remembered having to explain that word for word to his parents when they had gotten there not an hour after they had been called. The pained and hopeless looks on their faces. Seeing their son lie motionless on the bed, calling out to him in denial and receiving no response. He couldn’t imagine what they could have been going through. Probably ten times worse than what he was on that day.

They had been waiting patiently outside his office for some time now. He would have to call them in soon. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to prolong the inevitable in the slim hope that it might all just go away. That the situation would magically solve itself and Hugo would sit up from the bed, ask for his mother and father, make him meow like a cat, joke with Sugar, just end up being perfectly fine and healed.

Idiotic. That’s what he was being. Completely and utterly idiotic. He wasn’t trained to sit behind his desk and cower at the difficulty of his job. He was told to accept every possible solution that could come in his line of work, no matter how grim.

Damn this child! What had he done to him?  Zacharie could not bring himself to think those things. Not about Hugo. Unprofessional as it was, he loved that boy. He loved all the time they had spent together, all the games they played the jokes they told, the stories he would make Zacharie tell him about his cats, or the stories the boy would tell him about his bird or friends. He had grown to care for this boy as if he were his own. What had come over him? He was still young, a child was the last thing on his mind. He had never even considered one, even when he had spent time with Hugo. But looking back on their time together and how much he cherished it, Zacharie could not deny that he had become far more than his patient. Far more than some sick kid in a hospital bed with a wild imagination.

The hour was late. He couldn’t delay it anymore. He would have to tell the boy’s parents what had to be done. The only supposed ‘humane’ thing that could be done.

The receptionist informed Hugo’s mother and father that they could go inside Zacharie’s office now. They stood up slowly, dreading what news they would hear. His father tried to put a comforting hand on his wife’s shoulder but she brushed it off. The hurt was still too much, even after all this time.

Zacharie wished them both a good evening as they came inside and beckoned them to sit down. They all sat in silence in the dimly lit room while Zacharie tried to look busy by filing through the notes he had on Hugo. He was still holding back, even when the words were on the tip of his tongue waiting to fall. He could barely even look either of them in the eye.

“Well.” he sighed as he finally and reluctantly closed the file. Every word he spoke he came close to breaking down into full sobs. He meant to lead into the topic at hand but found it remarkably difficult.

“Get on with it, tell us what’s changed.” Hugo’s father said impatiently. His wife glared at him.

“Please doctor, has there been any improvement?” She said more mildly. Zacharie swallowed the lump in his throat, and spoke in an unintentionally shaky voice.

“I’m afraid…” he paused. ‘Don’t lose it now,’ he thought. Not now. “I’m afraid his condition has only worsened since your last visit.” He waited for them to react before continuing. His mother bit her finger, fighting back her own tears, while his father almost forgot to breathe. “His brain has been getting more and more unresponsive. And his cancer has only gotten worse.” He had given bad news like this to parents before and it hadn’t been easy then either. But this. This was much worse than anything he had ever had to do before. Especially because he had never had to suggest…

“Is there anything you can do?” She implored. “Anything _we_ can do? We could take him to another hospital, we could pay more for higher treatment we can-”

“There is little any of us can do.” Zacharie said tenderly. Hugo’s mother buried her eyes in her palms. Her breath convulsing from the force of her tears. His father had gotten out of the chair and began pacing the room. He was growing angrier by the second.

“Well there has to be something!” He shouted. “Something you overlooked! Something that can snap him out of it, something that-” His wife angrily yelled his name which caused him to stop. He turned his back to both of them and stared at the door. Zacharie rubbed his eyes. He had to tell them. It had to be now. He had put it off for far too long.

“Even if he were to awake from the coma, his cancer has spread too quickly and too rapid.” He said calmly. Each word was like a new twist of the knife to Hugo’s parents. “And if he remains in the coma his brain will slowly shut itself down. He’ll be in a great deal of pain. More than he already is.” His mother looked up, still crying.

“So… either way he’ll…”

“Yes.” Zacharie said. “He will die.”

He had almost fooled himself into believing otherwise before he said it himself. But there was no playing the fool, no dancing around the  resolution blindly. No false hope. Hugo would die. One way or the other. All that remained was to make it as painless as possible.

“There is a way… you can ease his pain though.”

“NO.” His mother knew what Zacharie was implying. And she wouldn’t hear any of it.

“Please, ma’am,” Zacharie reasoned, “Hugo is suffering enough as it is. Every new day he goes through is slowly killing him faster and increasing the pain. The best thing to do for him is-”

“Best?!” She asked angrily. “BEST?! You’re talking about killing my son! You’re talking about ending his life before it’s even started! You honestly believe that’s what’s ‘BEST’ for him?!”

“He is going to die either way, as I’ve said before, and if he’s allowed to sit in the bed and just wait for it, it will only cause him a great amount of pain before he-”

“SHUT UP!” His mother yelled. “I won’t let you hurt him! I won’t let any of you hurt him!” Zacharie couldn’t see how he would reach her. Her outbursts were only making it harder for himself to not collapse.

“Ma’am if you truly think about it,” his mother kept repeating “no” as he talked, “if you consider how much suffering he’s been going through already in the past couple of weeks and consider that that will only get worse as times goes on…”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no-”

“Yes.” They were both startled to hear the sudden voice of her husband from behind them. He had stopped facing the door and was now looking at Zacharie. He repeated with a slight crack in his voice. “Yes.”

His wife began shaking infuriatingly and stood from her chair. “You wanted this to happen didn’t you?” She raised her index finger at him as she approached him. “You wanted him to end up like this so you could happily pull the plug didn’t you?” He didn’t respond. “DIDN’T YOU?!” She repeated. He took hold of her shoulders but she tried to shake him off. “DON’T TOUCH ME YOU BASTARD! DON’T TOUCH ME!” She began flinging her arms wildly at him trying to make contact but he had too strong a hold of her. He shook her to make her stop.

“Listen to me!” He shouted. “You know this is the right thing.” She shook her head. “You know this is the best thing we can do for him!” She still wouldn’t listen. “DO YOU WANT YOUR SON TO DIE SCARED?!” She had stopped shaking her head and only stared at her husband.

“Have you even considered how scared _he_ must be right now? Imagine what he must be thinking while he’s trapped in his mind. Unable to get out, unable to wake up. His brain is shutting down and hurting him and he can’t do anything to stop it. He’s probably terrified beyond his very being right now. I know, I don’t know a single thing about coma patients or if they even have any consciousness while they’re in it. But I don’t want to risk our son dying a slow and painful death, and feeling every bit of it!” She started to cry once more. “We. Have. To do this.” He emphasized. She was now sobbing uncontrollably and was limp in his arms. Not knowing what else to do, knowing full well what she thought of him, he loosened his grip and let her fall gently to the floor. She sobbed into the carpet. Zacharie and Hugo’s father stared at each other and at her. All of them just as lost as the other.

Hugo’s father waited outside while his wife was comforted by Zacharie and the receptionist. The only sound to be heard apart from her muffled cries behind the door was the slow ticking of the clock hanging on the wall. He thought about Mr. Dedan, of Enoch, of that damn bird. How would they react when they learned about what had happened? What would become of the bird when its owner was gone? He had barely socialized with Enoch or Mr. Dedan in the time since they had moved into the house and Hugo had met them, but he knew how important his son was to both of them. Maybe he should wait. Wait until all of them were present. But would they even want to be there when it happened? Would they even let it happen? And would waiting only increase his son’s suffering?

The door opened and Zacharie stepped out. Hugo’s father stood up as Zacharie closed the door behind him.

“She’s come around.” He said with almost disappointment. Hugo’s father nodded.

“Is there really no other way?” He asked. Zacharie slowly shook his head, never breaking eye contact with him. It was Hugo’s father who broke the contact. He looked around the room as if something in it would have the answer. The answer that didn’t have to end in his son’s death. The answer that could take them all back to before this ever happened.

“How long do you want to wait?” Zacharie asked him.

“How much pain is he in?”

“I won’t lie,” Zacharie said, “it’s probably nearing the very worst as we speak.” His father considered this. He knew it had to be done sooner or later. ‘Never at all’ wasn’t an option, as preferable as it seemed.

“Now.” His father whispered. Zacharie had to ask him to repeat it much to his pain. “Now.”

“Would you like to have a few moments with him before…” Zacharie couldn’t finish that sentence.

“Yes.” Hugo’s father said. He turned to the closed office door.

“She won’t go.” Zacharie told him. “She thought you would want to do it now when I told her what I told you. She refuses to be anywhere near it.” His father understood. If she went to see him now anyways she would never let him go.

Zacharie led the way to the elevator and down to the emergency ward. Each step felt heavier and heavier for both of them. Hugo’s father couldn’t spend too long with him. He would have to be quick. Say what he needed to and be done with it. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to let go either.

 

Curse him for a fool! He had been utterly blinded by his pride and later his grief and had allowed a greater evil than any spectre to slip through his grasp. How could he have believed that what that monster had been doing was for the good of the world? That what he was doing was “pure?” He had to put a stop to it now. Before anything else was ruined because of his ignorance.

He walked down the long empty hallways of the room, preparing himself for the final encounter with the puppet and its master. As he walked he came across a familiar face hidden behind a mask. Of course he would be here. He was never one to pass up making a small profit. Even now at the doorstep of the apocalypse.

“You’re too late.” The man in the mask spoke to him as he walked by. “It’s already begun.” He stopped for a moment and turned his head back to him.

“And you let him go?” He asked angrily. “Knowing full well what he intends to do?” The masked man shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’m just the wandering merchant. I cannot interfere in anything else beyond that.”

“Cannot or will not?” The masked man remained nonplussed. He continued. “We are both equally to blame for what is transpiring now. Myself more than you, I know, but you must feel some sort of remorse for this atrocity!”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.” The masked man was staring at the coin in his hand. “There is nothing that will stop him from completing his mission. Just ask the guardians.” He scoffed at this. To think he had once considered this cretin an ally.

“I should have known you would be no help. Stay here and squander what time you have left over your petty credits if it pleases you. I am going to put an end to this.” He continued down the hallway, never looking back as he left. The masked man looked at the coin in his hand. He had obtained many of them during this little adventure. And now, here at the end, they were the only comfort he had.

He put the coin in his pocket and walked down the hallway, away from where the final holocaust of blood would be spilt, and towards the exit. He would go back to the warehouse. Say his final goodbyes to the corpse in the secret basement. And wait for the end.

“I’m tired.” He said aloud. “Whichever way this ends… let it be quick.”

 

Hugo’s father entered the room with conviction and reluctance. He hadn’t been to see his son ever since he had entered the coma. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it, every time he tried. This time was different. He couldn’t falter now, he needed this or it would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Still nothing could prepare him for seeing his son motionless on the bed, strapped to life support and breathing heavily. He stayed motionless as well. Part of him wanting to run out of the room and never look back. But he didn’t retreat. He pushed forward. He sat in the chair next to his son’s bed and stared at him, listening to the heartbeat on the monitor steadily beeping. He looked the same as he did whenever he would peek into his bedroom in their house at night. He couldn’t imagine all the pain he must be going through at this moment. He looked so peaceful.

“Hello Hugo.” He said quietly. He paused, as if waiting for a response. “Your mother says hello too. She’s here but…” he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know if he could hear him. But what could you say to your own son, ‘I’m pulling the plug on your life support and your mother couldn’t be here to see me kill you?’ No. This wasn’t murder. He wasn’t killing him, he was doing the right thing. Why was it so hard to convince himself that this was the right thing?

“The doctor, Zacharie, he says you’re in a lot of pain. That, it’s only going to get worse.” He stared into his son’s unopened eyes and had to look away. He thought back to when his son was first born. His cries echoed throughout the hospital and his little body was so easy to carry. He remembered the nurse handing him over and his arms trembling as he held him. So afraid that he might accidentally drop him. But he didn’t drop him. He only remembered his son’s tear filled eyes looking back at his and reaching deep into his soul.

“He says,” His father finally continued, “that the best thing we can do for you is…” He couldn’t hold it in any longer. He began weeping on the spot. “Is to let you sleep.” He wished Hugo would say something. Say “no” or “I’m all right” or even get up and say “fooled you” as part of some cruel punch line to a joke. He remembered when he was younger how he used to laugh at every ridiculous ‘knock-knock’ joke he ever told him as if it were the funniest joke in the world.

How had it all come to this? Why had it come to this? A year ago Hugo had been as bright and chipper as any child could ever be. There was no sign of any pain or disease growing inside him, no indication that he would ever need to be hospitalized for months on end. The only time he had ever truly started to show signs of being worse for wear was when…

His father leaned over the bed and cradled Hugo in his arms. “I’m so sorry Hugo.” He cried. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry I brushed you off every time I came home and you wanted to play. I’m sorry I persisted you take up Baseball even though I knew you couldn’t care less about it. I’m sorry I always threatened to get rid of your bird, I’m sorry I never visited you here more often.” Every apology he listed only added another to his mind. He would have kept apologizing into infinity if he let himself. “I’m sorry for everything.” He cried into his son’s bald head and kissed it gently. He couldn’t remember the last time he had ran his fingers through his son’s hair. Hugo always loved it when he did that.

“I messed up everything didn’t I?” He asked, still cradling his son. “I was a terrible husband, and an even worse father.” The drunken words he had said that horrible night before Hugo was brought here, along with every drunken night before that, rang in his mind as if he had just said them. “I remember you saying to me, to us, ‘I knew this was my fault.’” The words sent chills down his spine as he recalled them.

“You were wrong Hugo. It was never your fault. It was mine.” He squeezed his son tightly as he hugged him. “Your mother despises me so much now. She wouldn’t even talk to me at all unless it was about you. You must hate me too.” He could no longer speak through his tears. He wished Hugo would reach up and put him a choke hold like they did whenever they played. Or that he would just move the smallest muscle. It killed him to be holding his son like this. Knowing that he was still alive but could do nothing but lie there without any free will. His throat was hoarse from all his tears but he managed to say, “I don’t blame you. I’m not angry with you if you hate me Hugo.

“I wish I could have given you a better memory of me. I wish I could have been the father you needed. I wish you and your mother could have been happy.” He was getting increasingly infuriated at himself the more he talked. “But I had to take advantage of you. Of her. I had a few bad days and I decided that my life had been a huge fuck up. That you…” He kissed his son again. Memories of whenever Hugo would get bruised during their playtimes rushed through his head, and how he would always kiss the bruises to make them go away. It was not something he thought other fathers did, but he wanted to be special for Hugo. He wanted to be unlike any father ever was or will be when it came to his son. How horrifyingly true that had turned out to be.

“You,” he said wiping away his tears, “are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I was an idiot for not believing that.” He felt it was a major understatement to use a word as mild as “idiot” but it sufficed for lack of a better phrase. “And don’t you believe it either.” He told his son. “Don’t you think you were a mistake or you shouldn’t have been born. Whatever I may have said to you back then, don’t you believe it.”

His father knew he needed to leave. He needed to tell Zacharie that it was time. If he waited any longer he wouldn’t be able to rip himself away from his son. Laying him back down on the bed was the hardest thing his father had ever done. His hands trembled as he did, as hard as the night he had been born. He held onto his son for one more minute after he had tucked him back in.

He leaned forward and kissed his son on the forehead one last time and whispered into his ear;

“I love you, Hugo…”

He walked back towards the door, tears still pouring down from his cheeks. He opened the door and turned one final time to his son sleeping on the bed. It was his last hope. The last chance that he would stir, or open his eyes, or say something, anything at all. But it never came. His father stepped out of the room and closed the door slowly. His eyes never leaving Hugo as he did. Until finally the door was shut and Hugo was out of sight.

 

_…I’m here…_

_…I’m… scared of the dark…_

_From now on, there will be no more darkness._

 

**The switch is now on OFF.**


End file.
